M.G.IMPORT60EKHAHDEL 
.W.F.SLUYTER 

KRABAIA-MALANG 
ST^R DAM- CURACAO 


Java 

The  Garden  of  the  East 


r 


Java 


The  Garden  of  the  East 


By 

Eliza  Ruhamah  Scidmore 

Author  of  "  Jinrikisha  Days  in  Japan  " 


New  York 

The  Century  Co. 

1922 


ight,  1897, 
By  THE  CENTURY  Co. 


Printed  in  U.  S.  A. 


TO 

MY  FRIEND 
MARY  T.  COCKCROFT 


-5692 


PREFACE 

AVA  is  still  the  most  beautiful  country 
in  all  the  world,  and  in  the  twentieth 
century  is  a  much  more  enjoyable 
place  than  during  the  century  when  I 
paid  it  my  first  visit.  The  Netherlands 
officials  have  greatly  relented  in  their  attitude  to 
travelers,  and  really  welcome  them.  There  are  guides 
and  guide-books,  even  an  official  tourist  bureau,  and 
one  may  be  personally  conducted  or  go  with  his  own 
coupons  everywhere.  The  hotels  have  been  enlarged 
and  modernized,  and  the  automobile  has  made  a  driv- 
ing tour  over  the  beautiful  country  roads  a  still  more 
perfect  pleasure.  The  price  of  the  toelatings  Jcart,  or 
admission  fee,  has  recently  been  doubled,  but  it  does 
not  become  an  American  to  grumble  at  anything 
Dutch  officials  or  a  custom-house  may  do,  after  the 
extraordinary  exhibit  of  American  methods  at  near-by 
Manila. 

The  Netherlands  India  government  is  doing  much 
to  advance  the  welfare  and  education  of  the  natives. 

ix 


T  PREFACE        I 

There  is  a  primary  school  in  every  village,  with  nor- 
mal and  technical  schools  at  the  large  towns,  and  the 
missions  claim  34,000  Christians  as  the  result  of  their 
labors.  Five  and  six  thousand  Mohammedans  annu- 
ally avail  themselves  of  the  privilege  of  making  the 
pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  and  in  1908  experiment  was 
made  of  assigning  trained  members  of  noble  Java- 
nese families  as  officers  of  native  regiments. 

The  native  population  has  increased  by  four  mil- 
lions, or  one  fourth,  in  the  last  ten  years,  and  the 
Chinese  population  of  Netherlands  India  has  doubled, 
the  latter  the  result  of  the  great  development  of  the 
tin  mines,  of  the  tobacco  and  petroleum  industries — 
the  export  of  petroleum  from  Sumatra  wells  having 
risen  from  nothing  at  all  to  an  annual  output  of 
120,000,000  gallons  in  the  decade. 

With  every  wish  to  avoid  errors,  one  is  often  mis- 
led by  accepting  as  facts  the  statements  of  the  many 
kind  but  inaccurate  people  who  do  most  of  the  talk- 
ing in  the  world;  while  just  as  surely  as  myths, 
legends  and  fairy  tales  grow  with  the  greatest  luxu- 
riance in  the  tropics,  so  surely  do  they  gravitate  to 
the  stranger's  ear.  One  can  only  hope  to  have  safely 
discriminated  now  and  then.  E.  B.  S. 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C., 
February,  1912. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.  SINGAPORE  AND  THE  EQUATOR  .....  1 

II.  IN  "JAVA  MAJOR"        ......  17 

III.  BATAVIA,  QUEEN  OF  THE  EAST  .....  25 

IV.  THE  KAMPONGS      .......  37 

V.  To  THE  HILLS .  49 

VI.  A  DUTCH  SANS  Souci 62 

VII.  IN  A  TROPICAL  GARDEN     .       .       .       .       .  .    79 

VIII.  THE  "CULTURE  SYSTEM"      ..,..,  94 

IX.  THE  "CULTURE  SYSTEM"  (Continued)      «       .  .  109 

X.  SINAGAR .126 

XI.  PLANTATION  LIFE      ....  .  136 

XII.  ACROSS  THE  PREANGER  REGENCIES       .       .       „  147 

XIII.  "To  TISSAK  MALAYA!"     .       .       .       ,',••',  .156 

XIV.  PRISONERS  OF  STATE  AT  BORO  BOEDOR       .       .  167 
XV.  BORO  BOEDOR     .        .        .        .        ,        .       .  .182 

XVI.  BORO  BOEDOR  AND  MENDOET        ....  203 

XVII.  BRAMBANAM        .       .        .        .      %       ..    V  .  216 

XVIII.  SOLO :  THE  CITY  OF  THE  SUSUNHAN      .       .      -.240 

XIX.  THE  LAND  OF  KRIS  AND  SARONG       .       .       .  .  253 

XX.  DJOKJAKARTA 265 

XXI.  PAKOE  ALAM:  THE  "Axis  OF  THE  UNIVERSE"  .  283 

XXII.  "TJILAT JAP,"  "CHALACHAP,"  "CHELACHAP"     .  301 

XXIII.  GrAROET  AND  PAPANDAYANG 312 

XXIV.  "SALAMAT!"  .  .      324 


d 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


MALAYS  DIVING  FOR  MONET       ....       Frontispiece 

PAGE 

A  STREET  IN  SINGAPORE •  •" 

MAP  OP  JAVA 16 

A  JAVANESE  YOUNG  WOMAN 27 

PAINTING  SARONGS 43 

RICE-FIELDS .54 

MOUNT  SALAK,  FROM  THE  RESIDENT'S  GARDEN,  BUITENZOR&    63 

FRANGIPANI  AND  SAUSAGE-TREE 74 

TROPICAL  FRUITS    .       .       .       .....       .81 

TROPICAL  FRUITS .        89 

A  MARKET  IN  BUITENZORO     .......    99 

SCENES  AROUND  THE  MARKET    .  / 105 

A  VIEW  IN  BUITENZORG  ........  Ill 

JAVANESE  COOLIES  GAMBLING 123 

JAVANESE  DANCING-GIRL 139 

A  MOHAMMEDAN  MOSQUE   .......      159 

WAYSIDE  PAVILION  ON  POST-ROAD 177 

BORO  BOEDOR,  FROM  THE  PASSAGRAHAN  ....       183 

GROUND-PLAN  OF  BORO  BOEDOR 187 

FOUR  BAS-RELIEFS  FROM  BORO  BOEDOR    ....      191 

ON  THE  SECOND  TERRACE 196 

THE  LATTICED  DAGOBAS  ON  THE  CIRCULAR  TERRACES     .      199 

xiii 


riv  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAOUC 

THE  RIGHT-HAND  IMAGE  AT  MENDOET 207 

TEMPLE  OP  LORD  JONGGRAN  AT  BRAMBANAM  .  .  .  217 
CLEARING  AWAY  RUBBISH  AND  VEGETATION  AT  BBAMBANAM 

TEMPLES 221 

KRISHNA  AND  THE  THREE  GRACES 226 

LORO  JONGGRAN  AND  HER  ATTENDANTS  ....  229 
PLAN  OP  CHANDI  SEWOU  ("THOUSAND  TEMPLES")  •  •  233 
FRAGMENT  FROM  LORO  JONGGRAN  TEMPLE  ....  235 
GANESHA,  THE  ELEPHANT-HEADED  GOD  ....  238 

THE  SUSUNHAN 243 

THE  DODOK 249 

JAVA,  BALI,  AND  MADURA  KRISES 255 

THE  BRAMBANAM  BABY 267 

TYING  THE  TURBAN 279 

WAYANG-WAYANG 285 

TOPENG  TROUPE  WITH  MASKS 291 

TRANSPLANTING  RICE  ....  ?15 


JAVA 

THE   GARDEN    OF  THE   EAST 


JAVA 

THE   GARDEN   OF  THE   EAST 


SINGAPORE  AND  THE  EQUATOR 

INGAPORE  (or  S'pore,  as  the  languid, 
perspiring,  exhausted  residents  near  the 
line  most  often  write  and  pronounce  the 
name  of  Sir  Stamford  Raffles's  colony  in 
the  Straits  of  Malacca)  is  a  geographical 
and  commercial  center  and  cross-roads  of  the  eastern 
hemisphere,  like  to  no  other  port  in  the  world.  Sin- 
gapore is  an  ethnological  center,  too,  and  that  small 
island  swinging  off  the  tip  of  the  Malay  Peninsula 
holds  a  whole  congress  of  nations,  an  exhibit  of  all  the 
races  and  peoples  and  types  of  men  in  the  world,  com- 
pared to  which  the  Midway  Plaisance  was  a  mere 
skeleton  of  a  suggestion.  The  traveler,  despite  the 
overpowering,  all-subduing  influence  of  the  heat,  has 
some  thrills  of  excitement  at  the  tropical  pictures  of 
the  shore,  and  the  congregation  of  varicolored  hu- 
manity grouped  on  the  Singapore  wharf;  and  there 
and  in  Java,  where  one  least  and  last  expects  to  find 
i  1 


2      JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

such  modern  conveniences,  his  ship  swings  up  to  solid 
wharves,  and  he  walks  down  a  gang-plank  in  civilized 
fashion— something  to  be  appreciated  after  the  excite- 
ments and  discomforts  of  landing  in  small  boats  among 
the  screaming  heathen  of  all  other  Asiatic  ports. 

On  the  Singapore  wharf  is  a  market  of  models  and 
a  life-class  for  a  hundred  painters ;  and  sculptors,  too, 
may  study  there  all  the  tones  of  living  bronze  and  the 
beauties  of  human  patina,  and  more  of  repose  than  of 
muscular  action,  perhaps.  Japanese,  Chinese,  Siamese, 
Malays,  Javanese,  Burmese,  Cingalese,  Tamils,  Sikhs, 
Parsees,  Lascars,  Malabars,  Malagasy,  and  sailor  folk 
of  all  coasts,  Hindus  and  heathens  of  every  caste  and 
persuasion,  are  grouped  in  a  brilliant  confusion  of 
red,  white,  brown,  and  patterned  drapery,  of  black, 
brown,  and  yellow  skins ;  and  behind  them,  in  ghostly 
clothes,  stand  the  pallid  Europeans,  who  have  brought 
the  law,  order,  and  system,  the  customs,  habits,  com- 
forts, and  luxuries  of  civilization  to  the  tropics  and 
the  jungle.  All  these  alien  heathens  and  pictu- 
resque unbelievers,  these  pagans  and  idolaters,  Bud- 
dhists, Brahmans,  Jews,  Turks,  sun-  and  fire-worship- 
ers, devil-dancers,  and  what  not,  have  come  with  the 
white  man  to  toil  for  him  under  the  equatorial  sun, 
since  the  Malays  are  the  great  leisure  class  of  the  world, 
and  will  not  work.  The  Malays  will  hardly  live  on  the 
land,  much  less  cultivate  it  or  pay  taxes,  while  they 
can  float  about  in  strange  little  hen-coops  of  house- 
boats that  fill  the  river  and  shores  by  thousands. 
Hence  the  Tamils  have  come  from  India  to  work,  and 
the  Chinese  to  do  the  small  trading;  and  the  Malay 
rests,  or  at  most  goes  a-fishing,  or  sits  by  the  canoe- 


SINGAPORE  AND  THE  EQUATOR  3 

loads  of  coral  and  sponges,  balloon-fish  and  strange 
sea  treasures  that  are  sold  at  the  wharf. 

A  tribe  of  young  Malays  in  dugout  canoes  meet 
every  steamer  and  paddle  in  beside  it,  shrieking  and 
gesticulating  for  the  passengers  to  toss  coins  into  the 
water.  Their  mops  of  black  hair  are  bleached  auburn 
by  the  action  of  sun  and  salt  water,  and  the  canoe  and 
paddle  fit  as  naturally  to  these  amphibians  as  a  turtle's 
shell  and  flipper.  They  bail  with  an  automatic  sweep 
of  the  hollowed  foot  in  regular  time  with  the  dip  of 
the  paddle ;  and  when  a  coin  drops,  the  Malay  lets  go 
the  paddle  and  sheds  his  canoe  without  concern.  There 
is  a  flash  of  brown  heels,  bubbles  and  commotion  be- 
low, and  the  diver  comes  up,  and  chooses  and  rights  his 
wooden  shell  and  flipper  as  easily  and  naturally  as  a 
man  picks  out  and  assumes  his  coat  and  cane  at  a 
hall  door.  And  in  their  hearts,  the  civilized  folk  on 
deck,  hampered  with  their  multiple  garments  and  con- 
ventions, envy  these  happy-go-lucky,  care-free  amphib- 
ians in  the  land  of  the  breadfruit,  banana,  and  scant 
raiment,  with  dives  into  the  cool,  green  water,  teeming 
with  fish  and  glittering  with  falling  coins,  as  the  only 
exertion  required  to  earn  a  living.  Cold  and  hunger 
are  unknown ;  flannels  and  soup  are  no  part  of  charity ; 
and  even  that  word,  and  the  many  organizations  in  its 
name,  are  hardly  known  in  the  lands  low  on  the  line. 

S'pore  is  the  great  junction  where  travelers  from  the 
East  or  the  West  change  ship  for  Java ;  a  commercial 
cross-roads  where  all  who  travel  must  stop  and  see 
what  a  marvel  of  a  place  British  energy  has  raised  from 
the  jungle  in  less  than  half  a  century.  The  Straits 
Settlements  date  from  the  time  when  Sir  Stamford 


4      JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

Raffles,  after  Great  Britain's  five  years'  temporary  oc- 
cupancy of  Java,  returned  that  possession  to  the  Dutch 
in  1816,  the  fall  of  Napoleon  removing  the  fear  that 
this  possession  of  Holland  would  become  a  French 
colony  and  menace  to  British  interests  in  Asia.  It  had 
been  intended  to  establish  such  a  British  commercial 
entrepot  at  Achin  Head,  the  north  end  of  Sumatra ; 
but  Sir  Stamford  Raffles's  better  idea  prevailed,  and 
the  free  port  of  Singapore  in  the  Straits  of  Malacca  has 
won  the  Commercial  supremacy  of  the  East  from  Ba- 
tavia,  and  has  prospered  beyond  its  founder's  dreams. 
It  is  a  well-built  and  a  beautifully  ordered  city,  and  the 
municipal  housekeeping  is  an  example  to  many  cities  of 
the  temperate  zone.  Even  the  untidy  Malay  and  the  dirt- 
loving  Chinese,  who  swarm  to  this  profitable  trading- 
center,  and  have  absorbed  all  the  small  business  and 
retail  trade  of  the  place,  are  held  to  outer  cleanliness 
and  strict  sanitary  laws  in  their  allotted  quarters.  The 
stately  business  houses,  the  marble  palace  of  a  bank, 
the  long  iron  pavilions  shading  the  daily  markets,  the 
splendid  Raffles  Museum  and  Library,  are  all  regular 
and  satisfactory  sights ;  but  the  street  life  is  the  fasci- 
nation and  distraction  of  the  traveler  before  everything 
else.  The  array  of  turbans  and  sarongs  gives  color  to 
every  thoroughfare ;  but  the  striking  and  most  unique 
pictures  in  Singapore  streets  are  the  Tamil  bullock- 
drivers,  who,  sooty  and  statuesque,  stand  in  splendid 
contrast  between  their  humped  white  oxen  and  the 
mounds  of  white  flour-bags  they  draw  in  primitive  carts. 
Tiny  Tamil  children,  shades  blacker,  if  that  could  really 
be,  than  their  ebon-  and  charcoal-skinned  parents,  are 
seen  on  suburban  roads,  clothed  only  in  silver  chains, 


A  STREET  IX  SINGAPORE. 

After  photograph  hy  E.  S.  Flatt. 


SINGAPORE  AND  THE  EQUATOR  7 

bracelets,  and  medals ;  and  these  lithe,  lean  people  from 
the  south  end  of  India  are  first  in  the  picturesque  ele- 
ments of  the  great  city  of  the  Straits.  The  Botanical 
Garden,  although  so  recently  established,  promises  to 
become  famous ;  and  one  arriving  from  the  farther  East 
meets  there  for  the  first  time  the  beautiful  red-stemmed 
Banka  palm,  and  the  symmetrical  traveler's  palm  of 
Madagascar,  the  latter  all  conventionalized  ready  for 
sculptors'  use.  Scores  of  other  splendid  palms,  giant 
creepers,  gorgeous  blossoms  and  fantastic  orchids, 
known  to  us  only  by  puny  examples  in  great  conser- 
vatories at  home,  equally  delight  one— all  the  wealth 
of  jungle  and  swamp  growing  beside  the  smooth,  hard 
roads  of  an  English  park,  over  which  one  may  drive 
for  hours  in  the  suburbs  of  Singapore. 

The  Dutch  mail-steamers  to  and  from  Batavia  con- 
nect with  the  English  mail-steamers  at  Singapore}  a 
French  line  connects  with  the  Messagerie's  ships  run- 
ning between  Marseilles  and  Japan;  an  Australian 
line  of  steamers  gives  regular  communication ;  and  in- 
dependent steamers,  offering  as  much  comfort,  leave 
Singapore  almost  daily  for  Batavia.  The  five  hun- 
dred miles  of  distance  is  covered  in  forty  or  forty- 
eight  hours,  for  a  uniform  fare  by  the  vessels  of  any 
of  these  lines.  Before  the  advent  of  America  into 
the  Philippines  (1898)  living  and  travel  in  the  Neth- 
erlands Indies,  where  the  gold  standard  of  Holland  is 
observed,  were  two  and  three  times  as  expensive  as 
anywhere  else  in  the  Far  East.  American  occupation 
of  the  archipelago,  with  American  extravagance  and 
waste  have  corrupted  the  whole  neighboring  East, 
along  with  the  inflation  of  all  silver  values.  The 


8      JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

completion  of  railways  across  and  to  all  parts  of  the 
island  of  Java,  however,  has  greatly  reduced  tourist 
expenses,  so  that  they  are  not  now  two  or  three  times 
the  average  of  similar  expenses  in  India,  China,  and 
Japan. 

At  Singapore,  only  two  degrees  above  the  equator, 
the  sun  pursues  a  monotony  of  rising  and  setting  that 
ranges  only  from  six  minutes  before  to  six  minutes 
after  six  o'clock,  morning  and  evening,  the  year  round. 
Breakfasting  by  candle-light  and  leaving  the  hotel  in 
darkness,  there  was  all  the  beauty  of  the  gray-and-rose 
dawn  and  the  pale-yellow  rays  of  the  early  sun  to  be 
seen  from  the  wet  deck  when  our  ship  let  go  from  the 
wharf  and  sailed  out  over  a  sea  of  gold.  For  the  two 
days  and  two  nights  of  the  voyage,  with  but  six  pas- 
sengers on  the  large  blue-funnel  steamer,  we  had  the 
deck  and  the  cabins,  and  indeed  the  equator  and  the 
Java  Sea,  to  ourselves.  The  deck  was  furnished  with 
the  long  chairs  and  hammocks  of  tropical  life,  but 
more  tropical  yet  were  the  bunches  of  bananas  hang- 
ing from  the  awning-rail,  that  all  might  pick  and  eat 
at  will;  for  this  is  the  true  region  of  plenty,  where 
selected  bananas  cost  one  Mexican  cent  the  dozen,  and 
a  whole  bunch  but  five  cents,  and  where  actual  living 
is  far  too  cheap  and  simple  to  be  called  a  science. 

The  ship  slipped  out  from  the  harbor  through  the 
glassy  river  of  the  Straits  of  Malacca,  and  on  past 
points  and  shores  that  to  me  had  never  been  anything 
but  geographic  names.  There  was  some  little  thrill 
of  excitement  in  being  "  on  the  line  "  in  the  heart  of 
the  tropics,  the  half-way  house  of  all  the  world,  and 
one  expected  strange  aspects  and  effects.  There  was 


SINGAPORE  AND  THE  EQUATOR  9 

a  magic  stillness  of  air  and  sea ;  the  calm  was  as  of  en- 
chantment, and  one  felt  as  if  in  some  hypnotic  trance, 
with  all  nature  chained  in  the  same  spell.  The  pale, 
pearly  sky  was  reflected  in  smooth  stretches  of  liquid, 
pearly  sea,  with  vaporous  hills,  soft  green  visions  of 
land  beyond.  Everywhere  in  these  regions  the  shallow 
water  shows  pale  green  above  the  sandy  bottom,  and 
the  anchor  can  be  dropped  at  will.  All  through  the 
breathless  day  the  ship  coursed  over  this  shimmering 
yellow  and  gray-green  sea,  with  faint  pictures  of  land, 
the  very  landscapes  of  mirage,  drawn  in  vaporous  tints 
on  every  side.  We  were  threading  a  way  through  the 
thousand  islands,  the  archipelago  lying  below  the 
point  of  the  Malay  Peninsula,  a  region  of  unnamed, 
uncounted  "  summer  isles  of  Eden,"  chiefly  known  to 
history  as  the  home  of  pirates. 

The  high  mountain-ridges  of  Sumatra  barred  the 
west  for  all  the  first  equatorial  day,  the  land  of  this 
"Java  Minor"  sloping  down  and  spreading  out  in 
great  green  plains  and  swamps  on  the  fertile  but  un- 
healthy eastern  coast.  The  large  settlements  and  most 
attractive  districts  are  on  the  west  coast,  where  the  hills 
rise  steeply  from  the  ocean,  and  coffee-trees  thrive  lux- 
uriantly. Benkoelen,  the  old  English  town,  and  Pa- 
dang,  the  great  coffee-mart,  are  on  that  coast,  and 
from  the  latter  a  railway  leads  to  high  mountain  dis- 
tricts of  great  picturesqueness.  There  are  few  govern- 
ment plantations  on  Sumatra,  where  land-tenures 
and  leases  are  the  same  as  in  Java.  Immense  areas 
have  been  devoted  to  tobacco-culture  near  Deli,  on 
the  north  or  Straits  coast,  planters  employing  there 
and  on  lower  east-coast  estates  more  than  forty-three 


10     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

thousand  Chinese  coolies— the  Chinese,  the  one  Asiatic 
who  toils  with  ardor  and  regularity,  whom  the  tropics 
cannot  debilitate,  and  to  whom  malaria  and  all  germs, 
microbes,  and  bacilli  seem  but  tonic  agents. 

When  the  British  returned  Java,  after  the  Napoleon 
scare  was  over,  they  retained  Ceylon  and  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope,  and  sovereign  rights  over  Sumatra,  relin- 
quishing this  latter  suzerainty  in  1872,  in  exchange  for 
Holland's  extensive  rights  in  Ashantee  and  the  Gold 
Coast  of  Africa.  The  Dutch  then  attempted  to  reduce 
the  native  population  of  Sumatra  to  the  same  estate 
as  the  more  pliant  people  of  Java ;  but  the  wild  moun- 
taineers and  bucaneers,  of  the  north,  or  Achin,  end  of 
the  island  in  particular,  warned  by  the  sad  fate  of  the 
Javanese,  had  no  intention  of  being  conquered  and 
enslaved,  of  giving  their  labor  and  the  fruit  of  their 
lands  to  the  strangers  from  Europe's  cold  swamps. 
The  Achin  war  continued  for  thirty-three  years  long 
resulting  in  a  general  loss  of  Dutch  prestige  in  the 
East,  an  immense  expenditure  of  Dutch  gulden,  causing 
a  deficit  in  the  colonial  budget  every  year,  a  fearful 
mortality  among  Dutch  troops,  and  partial  abandon- 
ment, in  one  decade  of  trade  depression,  of  the  aggres- 
sive policy.  Dutch  commanders  were  well  satisfied  to 
hold  their  chain  of  forts  along  the  western  hills,  and  to 
punish  the  Achinese  in  a  small  way  by  blockading 
them  from  their  supplies  of  opium,  tobacco,  and  spirits. 
In  one  four  years  of  active  campaigning  the  Achin 
war  cost  seventy  million  gulden,  and  seventy  out  of 
every  hundred  Dutch  soldiers  succumbed  to  the  climate 
before  going  into  an  encounter.  The  Achinese  merely 
retired  to  their  swamps  and  jungles  and  waited,  and 


SINGAPORE  AND  THE  EQUATOR  11 

the  climate  did  the  rest,  their  confidence  in  themselves 
only  shaken  during  the  command  of  General  Van  der 
Heyden,  who  for  a  time  actually  crushed  the  rebellion. 
This  picturesque  fighter,  a  half-brother  of  Baron  de 
Stuers,  inherited  Malay  instincts  from  a  native  mother, 
and  carried  on  such  a  warfare  as  the  Achinese  under- 
stood. He  lost  an  eye  in  one  encounter,  and  the  na- 
tives, then  remembering  an  old  tradition  that  their 
country  would  be  conquered  by  a  one-eyed  man,  prac- 
tically gave  up  the  struggle— to  resume  it,  however,  as 
soon  as  General  Van  der  Heyden  retired  and  sailed  for 
Holland,  and  military  vigilance  was  relaxed  in  conse- 
quence of  Diitch  economy.  The  Achinese  leader, 
Toekoe  Oemar,  several  times  apparently  yielded  to 
the  Dutch,  only  to  perpetrate  some  greater  injury; 
but  he  finally  surrendered  in  1905,  was  deported,  and 
there  is  perfect  peace. 

It  was  a  picturesque,  blood-curdling  story  of  war 
with  these  Achinese;  and  in  view  of  their  indomitable 
spirit,  Great  Britain  did  not  lose  so  much  when  she  let 
go  unconquerable  Sumatra.  British  tourists  are  sad- 
dened, however,  when  they  see  what  their  ministers  let 
slip  with  Java,  for  with  that  island  and  Sumatra, 
all  Asia's  southern  shore-line,  and  virtually  the  far 
East,  would  have  been  England's  own. 

Geologically  this  whole  Malay  Archipelago  was  one 
with  the  Malay  Peninsula,  and  although  so  recently 
made,  is  still  subject  to  earthquake  change,  as  shown 
in  the  terrible  eruption  of  the  island  of  Krakatau  in 
the  narrow  Sunda  Strait,  west  of  Java,  in  August,  1883. 
Native  traditions  tell  that  anciently  Sumatra,  Java, 
Bali,  and  Sumbawa  were  one  island,  and  "  when  three 


12     JAVA:  THE  GABDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

thousand  rainy  seasons  shall  have  passed  away  they 
will  be  reunited  " ;  but  Alfred  Russel  Wallace  denies 
it,  and  proves  that  Java  was  the  first  to  drop  away  from 
the  Asiatic  mainland  and  become  an  island. 

While  the  sun  rode  high  in  the  cloudless  white  zenith 
above  our  ship  the  whole  world  seemed  aswoon.  Hills 
and  islands  swam  and  wavered  in  the  heat  and  mists, 
and  the  glare  and  silence  were  terrible  and  oppressive. 
One  could  not  shake  off  the  sensation  of  mystery  and 
unreality,  of  sailing  into  some  unknown,  eerie,  other 
world.  Every  voice  was  subdued,  the  beat  of  the 
engines  was  scarcely  felt  in  that  glassy  calm,  and  the 
stillness  of  the  ship  gave  a  strange  sensation,  as  of  a 
magic  spell.  It  was  not  so  very  hot,— only  86°  by  the 
thermometer,— but  the  least  exertion,  to  cross  the  deck, 
to  lift  a  book,  to  pull  a  banana,  left  one  limp  and  ex- 
hausted, with  cheeks  burning  and  the  breath  coming 
faster,  that  insidious,  deceptive  heat  of  the  tropics 
declaring  itself —that  steaming,  wilting  quality  in  the 
sun  of  Asia  that  so  soon  makes  jelly  of  the  white 
man's  brain,  and  that  in  no  way  compares  with  the 
scorching,  dry  96°  in  the  shade  of  a  North  American, 
hot-wave  summer  day. 

At  five  o'clock,  while  afternoon  tea  and  bananas 
were  being  served  on  deck,  we  crossed  the  line— that 
imaginary  parting  of  the  world,  the  invisible  thread  of 
the  universe,  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  all  latitude 
—latitude  0°,  longitude  103°  east,  the  sextant  told.  The 
position  was  geographically  exciting.  We  were  liter- 
ally "  down  South,"  and  might  now  speak  disrespect- 
fully of  the  equator  if  we  wished.  A  breeze  sprang 
up  as  soon  as  we  crossed  the  line,  and  all  that  evening 


SINGAPORE  AND  THE  EQUATOR  13 

and  through  the  night  the  air  of  the  southern  hemi- 
sphere was  appreciably  cooler.  The  ship  went  slowly, 
and  loitered  along  in  order  to  enter  the  Banka  Straits 
by  daylight ;  and  at  sunrise  we  were  in  a  smooth  river 
of  pearl,  with  the  green  Sumatra  shores  close  on  one 
hand,  and  the  heights  of  Banka's  island  of  tin  on  the 
other.  A  ship  in  full  sail  swept  out  to  meet  us,  and 
four  more  barks  under  swelling  canvas  passed  by  in 
that  narrow  strait,  whose  rocks  and  reefs  are  fully  at- 
tested by  the  line  of  wrecks  and  sunken  masts  down 
its  length.  The  harbor  of  Muntuk,  whence  there  is  a 
direct  railway  to  the  tin-mines,  was  busy  with  shipping, 
and  the  white  walls  and  red  roofs  of  the  town  showed 
prettily  against  the  green. 

The  open  Java  Sea  was  as  still  and  glassy  as  the 
straits  had  been,  and  for  another  breathless,  cloudless 
day  the  ship's  engines  beat  almost  inaudibly  as  we  went 
southward  through  an  enchanted  silence.  When  the 
heat  and  glare  of  light  from  the  midday  sun  so  di- 
rectly overhead  drove  us  to  the  cabin,  where  swinging 
punkas  gave  air,  we  had  additional  suggestion  of  the 
tropics;  for  a  passenger  for  Macassar,  just  down 
from  Penang  and  Malacca,  showed  us  fifty  freshly 
cured  specimens  of  birds,  whose  gorgeous  plumage  re- 
peated the  most  brilliant  and  dazzling  tints  of  the  rain- 
bow, the  flower-garden,  and  the  jewel-case,  and  left  us 
bereft  of  adjectives  and  exclamations.  Here  we  found 
another  passenger,  who  spoke  Dutch  and  looked  the 
Hollander  by  every  sign,  but  quickly  claimed  citizen- 
ship with  us  as  a  naturalized  voter  of  the  great  repub- 
lic. He  asked  if  we  lived  hi  Java,  and  when  we  had 
answered  that  we  were  going  to  Java  en  touriste, 


14     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

"merely  travelers,"  he  established  comradeship  by 
saying,  "I  am  a  traveling  man  myself— New  York 
Life."  This  naturalized  American  citizen  said  quite 
naturally,  "  We  Dutchmen  "  and  "  our  queen  " — Amer- 
icanisms with  a  loyal  Holland  ring. 

After  the  gold,  rose,  gray,  and  purple  sunset  had 
shown  us  such  a  sky  of  splendor  and  sea  of  glory  as 
we  had  but  dreamed  of  above  the  equator,  banks  of 
dark  vapor  denned  themselves  in  the  south.  A  thin 
young  moon  hung  among  the  huge  yellow  stars,  that 
glowed  steadily,  with  no  cold  twinkling,  in  that  intense 
night  sky ;  but  before  the  Southern  Cross  could  rise, 
dense  clouds  rolled  up,  and  flashes,  chains,  and  forks  of 
angry  lightning  made  a  double  spectacular  play  against 
the  inky-black  sky  and  the  mirror-black  sea.  The 
captain  promised  us  a  tropical  thunder-storm  from 
those  black  clouds  in  the  south,  and  went  forward  to 
give  ship's  orders,  advising  us  to  make  all  haste  below 
when  the  first  drop  should  fall,  as  in  an  instant  a  sheet 
of  blinding  rain  would  surround  the  decks,  against 
which  the  double  awnings  would  be  no  more  protection 
than  so  much  gauze,  and  through  which  one  could  not 
see  the  ship's  length.  The  clouds  remained  station- 
ary, however,  and  we  missed  the  promised  sensation, 
although  we  waited  for  hours  on  deck,  the  ship  moving 
quietly  through  the  soft,  velvety  air  of  the  tropic's 
blackest  midnight,  and  the  lightning-flashes  becom- 
ing fainter  and  fainter. 


n 

IN  "JAVA  MAJOR" 

the  earliest  morning  a  clean  white  light- 
house on  an  islet  was  seen  ahead,  and  as 
the  sun  rose,  bluish  mountains  came  up 
from  the  sea,  grew  in  height,  outlined 
themselves,  and  then  stood  out,  detached 
volcanic  peaks  of  most  lovely  lines,  against  the  purest, 
pale-blue  sky ;  soft  clouds  floated  up  and  clung  to  the 
summits ;  the  blue  and  green  at  the  water's  edge  re- 
solved itself  into  groves  and  lines  of  palms ;  and  over 
sea  and  sky  and  the  wonderland  before  us  was  all  the 
dewy  freshness  of  dawn  in  Eden.  It  looked  very  truly 
the  "gem"  and  the  "pearl  of  the  East,"  this  "Java 
Major"  of  the  ancients,  and  the  Djawa  of  the  native 
people,  which  has  called  forth  more  extravagant  praise 
and  had  more  adjectives  expended  on  it  than  any  other 
one  island  in  the  world.  Yet  this  little  continent  is 
only  666  miles  long  and  from  56  to  135  miles  wide,  and 
on  an  area  of  49,197  square  miles  (nearly  the  same  as 
that  of  the  State  of  New  York)  supports  a  population 
of  30,098,008,  greater  than  that  of  all  the  other  islands 
of  the  Indian  Ocean  put  together.  With  1600  miles 

17 


18     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

of  coast-line,  it  has  few  harbors,  the  north  shore  being 
swampy  and  flat,  with  shallows  extending  far  out, 
while  the  southern  coast  is  steep  and  bold,  and  the  one 
harbor  of  Tjilatjap  breaks  the  long  line  of  surf  where 
the  Indian  Ocean  beats  against  the  southern  cliffs. 
Fortunately,  hurricanes  and  typhoons  are  unknown  in 
the  waters  around  this  "  summer  land  of  the  world," 
and  the  seasons  have  but  an  even,  regular  change  from 
wet  to  dry  in  Java.  From  April  to  October  the  dry 
monsoon  blows  from  the  southeast,  and  brings  the 
best  weather  of  the  year— dry,  hot  days  and  the  coolest 
nights.  From  October  to  April  the  southwest  or  wet 
monsoon  blows.  Then  every  day  has  its  afternoon 
shower,  the  air  is  heavy  and  stifling,  all  the  tropic  world 
is  asteani  and  astew  and  afloat,  vegetation  is  magnifi- 
cent, insect  life  triumphant,  and  the  mountains  are 
hidden  in  nearly  perpetual  mist.  There  are  heavy  thun- 
der-storms at  the  turn  of  the  monsoon,  and  the  one  we 
had  watched  from  the  sea  the  Hallowe'en  night  before 
our  arrival  had  washed  earth  and  air  until  the  foliage 
glistened,  the  air  fairly  sparkled,  nature  wore  her  most 
radiant  smiles,  and  the  tropics  were  ideal. 

It  was  more  workaday  and  prosaic  when  the  ship, 
steaming  in  between  long  breakwaters,  made  fast  to 
the  stone  quays  of  Tandjon  Priok,  facing  a  long  line 
of  corrugated-iron  warehouses,  behind  which  was  the 
railway  connecting  the  port  with  the  city  of  Batavia. 
The  gradual  silting  up  of  Batavia  harbor  after  an 
eruption  of  Mount  Salak  in  1699,  which  first  dammed 
and  then  sent  torrents  of  mud  and  sand  down  the 
Tjiliwong  River,  finally  obliged  commerce  to  remove 
to  this  deep  bay  six  miles  farther  east,  where  the 


IN   "JAVA  MAJOR"  19 

colonials  have  made  a  model  modern  harbor,  at  a 
cost  of  twenty-six  and  a  half  million  gulden,  all  paid 
from  current  revenues,  without  the  island's  ceasing 
to  pay  its  regular  tribute  to  the  crown  of  Hol- 
land. The  customs  officers  at  Tandjon  Priok  were 
courteous  and  lenient,  passing  our  tourist  luggage 
with  the  briefest  formality,  and  kindly  explaining  how 
our  steamer-chairs  could  be  stored  in  the  railway 
rooms  until  our  return  to  port.  It  is  but  nine  miles 
from  the  Tandjon  Priok  wharf  to  the  main  station  in 
the  heart  of  the  original  city  of  Batavia— a  stretch  of 
swampy  ground  dotted  and  lined  with  palm-groves  and 
banana-patches,  with  tiny  woven  baskets  of  houses 
perched  on  stilts  clustered  at  the  foot  of  tall  cocoa- 
trees  that  are  the  staff  and  source  of  life  and  of  every 
economical  blessing  of  native  existence.  We  leaped 
excitedly  from  one  side  of  the  little  car  to  the  other, 
to  see  each  more  and  more  tropical  picture ;  groups 
of  bare  brown  children  frolicking  in  the  road,  and 
mothers  with  babies  astride  of  their  hips,  or  swinging 
comfortably  in  a  scarf  knotted  across  one  shoulder, 
and  every-day  life  going  on  under  the  palms  most 
naturally,  although  to  our  eyes  it  was  so  strange  and 
theatrical. 

At  the  railway-station  we  met  the  sadoe  (dos-a-dos), 
a  two-wheeled  cart,  which  is  the  common  vehicle  of 
hire  of  the  country,  and  is  drawn  by  a  tiny  Timor  or 
Sandalwood  pony,  with  sometimes  a  second  pony  at- 
tached outside  of  the  shafts.  The  broad  cushioned 
seat  over  the  axles  will  accommodate  four  persons,  two 
sitting  each  way.  The  driver  faces  front  comfortably  j 
but  the  passenger,  with  no  back  to  lean  against  but 


20     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  driver's,  must  hold  to  the  canopy-frame  while  he  is 
switched  about  town  backward  in  the  footman's  place, 
for  one  gulden  or  forty  cents  the  hour. 

Whether  one  comes  to  Java  from  India  or  China, 
there  is  hasty  change  from  the  depreciated  silver  cur- 
rency of  all  Asia  to  the  unaltered  gold  standard  of 
Holland,  and  the  sudden  expensiveness  of  the  world 
is  a  sad  surprise.  The  Netherlands  unit  of  value,  the 
gulden  (value,  forty  cents  United  States  gold),  is 
as  often  called  a  florin,  a  rupee,  or  a  dollar— the 
"Mexican  dollar"  or  the  equivalent  "British  dollar" 
of  the  Straits  Settlements,  a  coin  which  trade  necessi- 
ties drove  British  conservatism  to  minting,  which 
act  robs  the  Briton  of  the  privilege  of  making  further 
remarks  upon  "the  almighty  dollar"  of  the  United 
States,  with  its  unchanging  value  of  one  hundred  cents 
gold.  This  confusion  of  coins,  with  prices  quoted  in- 
differently in  guldens,  florins,  rupees,  and  dollars,  is 
further  increased  by  dividing  the  gulden  into  one  hun- 
dred cents,  like  the  Ceylon  rupee,  so  that,  between  these 
Dutch  fractions,  the  true  cents  of  the  United  States 
dollar  that  one  instinctively  thinks  of,  and  the  depre- 
ciated cents  of  the  British  or  the  battered  Mexican 
dollar,  one's  brain  begins  to  whirl  when  prices  are 
quoted,  or  any  evil  day  of  reckoning  comes. 

No  Europeans  live  at  Tandjon  Priok,  nor  in  the  old 
city  of  Batavia,  which  from  the  frightful  mortality 
during  two  centuries  was  known  as  "the  graveyard 
of  Europeans."  The  banks  and  business  houses,  the 
Chinese  and  Arab  towns,  are  in  the  "  old  town  " ;  but 
Europeans  desert  that  quarter  before  sundown,  and 
betake  themselves  to  the  "  new  town  "  suburbs,  where 


IN   "JAVA  MAJOR"  21 

every  house  is  in  a  park  of  its  own,  and  the  avenues 
are  broad  and  straight,  and  all  the  distances  are  mag- 
nificent. The  city  of  Batavia,  literally  "  fair  meadows," 
grandiloquently  "  the  queen  of  the  East,"  and  without 
exaggeration  "the  gridiron  of  the  East,"  dates  from 
1621,  when  the  Dutch  removed  from  Bantam,  where 
quarrels  between  Portuguese,  Javanese,  and  the  East 
India  Company  had  been  disturbing  trade  for  fifteen 
years,  and  built  Fort  Jacatra  at  the  mouth  of  a  river 
off  which  a  cluster  of  islands  sheltered  a  fine  harbor. 
Its  position  in  the  midst  of  swamps  was  unhealthy,  and 
the  mortality  was  so  appalling  as  to  seem  incredible. 
Dutch  records  tell  of  87,000  soldiers  and  sailors  dying 
in  the  government  hospital  between  1714  and  1776, 
and  of  1,119,375  dying  at  Batavia  between  1730  and 
August,  1752— a  period  of  twenty-two  years  and  eight 
months.1  The  deadly  Java  fever  occasioning  this 
seemingly  incredible  mortality  was  worst  between  the 
years  1733  and  1738,  during  which  time  2000  of  the 
Dutch  East  India  Company's  servants  and  free  Chris- 
tians died  annually.  Staunton,  who  visited  Batavia 
with  Lord  Macartney's  embassy  in  1793,  called  it  the 
"most  unwholesome  place  in  the  universe,"  and  "the 
pestilential  climate  "  was  considered  a  sufficient  defense 
against  attack  from  any  European  power. 

The  people  were  long  in  learning  that  those  who  went 
to  the  higher  suburbs  to  sleep,  and  built  houses  of  the 
most  open  construction  to  admit  of  the  fullest  sweep 
of  air,  were  free  from  the  fever  of  the  walled  town, 
surrounded  by  swamps,  cut  by  stagnant  canals,  and 
facing  a  harbor  whose  mud-banks  were  exposed  at 

1  See  Sir  Stamford  Eaffles's  "History  of  Java,"  Appendix  A. 
2 


22     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

low  tide.  The  city  walls  were  destroyed  at  the  be- 
ginning of  this  century  by  the  energetic  Marshal 
Daendels,  who  began  building  the  new  town.  The 
quaint  old  air-tight  Dutch  buildings  were  torn  down, 
and  streets  were  widened ;  and  there  is  now  a  great  out- 
spread town  of  red-roofed,  whitewashed  houses,  with 
no  special  features  or  picturesqueness  to  make  its 
street-scenes  either  distinctively  Dutch  or  tropical. 
Modern  Batavia  had  115,567  inhabitants  on  December 
31,  1905,  less  than  a  tenth  of  whom  are  Europeans, 
a  fourth  Chinese  and  three-fourths  natives.  While  the 
eighteenth-century  Stadhuis  might  have  been  brought 
from  Holland  entire,  a  steam  tramway  starts  from  its 
door  and  thence  shrieks  its  way  to  the  farthest  suburb, 
the  telephone  "hellos"  from  center  to  suburb,  and 
modern  inventions  make  tropical  living  possible. 

The  Dutch  do  not  welcome  tourists,  nor  encourage 
one  to  visit  their  paradise  of  the  Indies.  Too  many 
travelers  have  come,  seen,  and  gone  away  to  tell  disa- 
greeable truths  about  Dutch  methods  and  rule ;  to  ex- 
pose the  source  and  means  of  the  profitable  returns 
of  twenty  million  dollars  and  more  for  each  of  so  many 
years  of  the  last  and  the  preceding  century— all  from 
islands  whose  whole  area  only  equals  that  of  the  State 
of  New  York.  Although  the  tyrannic  rule  and  the 
"  culture  system,"  or  forced  labor,  are  things  of  the 
dark  past,  the  Dutch  official  is  still  suspicious,  and 
the  idea  being  fixed  fast  that  no  stranger  comes  to  Java 
on  kindly  or  hospitable  errands,  the  colonial  authori- 
ties must  know  within  twenty-four  hours  why  one 
visits  the  Indies.  They  demand  one's  name,  age,  re- 
ligion, nationality,  place  of  nativity,  and  occupation, 


IN   "JAVA  MAJOR"  33 

the  name  of  the  ship  that  brought  the  suspect  to  Java, 
and  the  name  of  its  captain— a  dim  threat  lurking  in 
this  latter  query  of  holding  the  unlucky  mariner  re- 
sponsible should  his  importation  prove  an  expense  or 
embarrassment  to  the  island.  Still  another  permit— 
a  toelatings-kaart,  or  "admission  ticket"— must  be  ob- 
tained if  one  wishes  to  travel  farther  than  Buitenzorg, 
the  cooler  capital,  forty  miles  away  in  the  hills.  The 
tourist  pure  and  simple,  the  sight-seer  and  pleasure 
traveler,  is  not  yet  quite  comprehended,  and  his  pass- 
ports usually  accredit  him  as  traveling  in  the  interior 
for  "  scientific  purposes."  Guides  or  efficient  couriers 
in  the  real  sense  are  all  too  rare.  The  English-speak- 
ing servant  is  rare  and  delusive,  yet  a  necessity  unless 
one  speaks  Dutch  or  Low  Malay.  Of  all  the  countries 
one  may  ever  travel  in,  none  equals  Java  in  the  diffi- 
culty of  being  understood ;  and  it  is  a  question,  too, 
whether  the  Malays  who  do  not  know  any  English  are 
harder  to  get  along  with  than  the  Dutch  who  know  a 
little. 

Thirty  years  ago  Alfred  Russel  Wallace  inveighed 
against  the  unnecessary  discomforts,  annoyances, 
and  expense  of  travel  in  Java,  and  every  tourist  since 
has  repeated  his  plaint.  The  philippics  of  returned 
travelers  furnish  steady  amusement  for  Singapore 
residents;  and  no  one  brings  back  the  same  enthu- 
siasm that  embarked  with  him.  It  is  not  the  Java 
of  the  Javanese  that  these  returned  ones  berate  so 
vehemently,  but  the  Netherlands  India  officials  who 
impose  so  many  hampering  customs  and  restrictions 
upon  all  alien  visitors  and  residents.  Only  the  treaty 
with  Japan  in  1896  released  foreign  bankers  and  mer- 


24     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

chants  from  compulsory  military  drill  each  month. 
The  fastidious  British  bank  clerk  had  to  "  shoulder 
arms"  on  the  hot  parade  ground  in  company  forma- 
tion with  all  other  "  aliens,"  of  any  race  or  color,  until 
Japan  delivered  its  subjects  from  this  galling  imposi- 
tion, and  thereby  the  men  of  all  other  favored  nations. 
Java  undoubtedly  is  "the  very  finest  and  most  inter- 
esting tropical  island  in  the  world/'  and  the  Javanese 
the  most  gentle,  attractive,  and  innately  refined  people 
of  the  East,  after  the  Japanese ;  but  the  Dutch  in  Java 
ubeat  the  Dutch"  in  Europe  ten  points  to  one,  and 
there  is  nothing  so  surprising  and  amazing,  in  all 
man's  proper  study  of  mankind,  as  this  equatorial  Hol- 
lander transplanted  from  the  cold  fens  of  Europe;  nor 
is  anything  so  strange  as  the  effect  of  a  high  temper- 
ature on  Low-Country  temperament.  The  most  rigid, 
conventional,  narrow,  thrifty,  prudish,  and  Protestant 
people  in  Europe  bloom  out  in  the  forcing-house  of 
the  tropics  into  strange  laxity,  and  one  does  not  know 
the  Hollanders  until  one  sees  them  in  this  "  summer 
land  of  the  world,"  whither  they  threatened  to  emigrate 
in  a  body  during  the  time  of  the  Spanish  Inquisition. 


Ill 

BATAVTA,  QUEEN  OF  THE  EAST 

HEN  one  has  driven  through  the  old  town 
of  Batavia  and  seen  its  crowded  bazaars 
and  streets,  and  has  followed  the  lines  of 
bricked  canals,  where  small  natives  splash 
1  and  swim,  women  beat  the  family  linen, 
and  men  go  to  and  fro  in  tiny  boats,  all  in  strange 
travesty  of  the  solemn  canals  of  the  old  country,  he 
comes  to  the  broader  avenues  of  the  new  town,  lined 
with  tall  tamarind-  and  waringen-trees,  with  plumes  of 
palms,  and  pyramids  of  blaming  Madagascar  flame- trees 
in  blossom.  He  is  driven  into  the  loiig  garden  court 
of  the  Hotel  Nederlandeu,  and  there  beholds  a  spec- 
tacle of  social  life  and  customs  that  nothing  in  all 
travel  can  equal  for  distinct  shock  and  sensation.  We 
had  seen  some  queer  things  in  the  streets,— women 
lolling  barefooted  and  in  startling  dishabille  in  splen- 
did equipages,— but  concluded  them  to  be  servants  or 
half-castes;  but  there  in  the  hotel  was  an  undress 
parade  that  beggars  description,  and  was  as  astound- 
ing on  the  last  as  on  the  first  day  in  the  country. 
Woman's  vanity  and  man's  conventional  ideas  evi- 

25 


26     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

dently  wilt  at  the  line,  and  no  formalities  pass  the 
equator,  when  distinguished  citizens  and  officials  can 
roam  and  lounge  about  hotel  courts  in  pajamas  and 
bath  slippers,  and  bare-ankled  women,  clad  only  in  the 
native  sarong,  or  skirt,  and  a  white  dressing-jacket,  go 
unconcernedly  about  their  affairs  in  streets  and  public 
places  until  afternoon.  It  is  a  dishabille  beyond  all 
burlesque  pantomime,  and  only  shipwreck  on  a  desert 
island  would  seem  sufficient  excuse  for  women  being 
seen  in  such  an  ungraceful,  unbecoming  attire— an  un- 
dress that  reveals  every  defect  while  concealing  beauty, 
that  no  loveliness  can  overcome,  and  that  has  neither 
color  nor  grace  nor  picturesqueness  to  recommend  it. 
The  hotel  is  a  series  of  one-storied  buildings  sur- 
rounding the  four  sides  of  a  garden  court,  the  project- 
ing eaves  giving  a  continuous  covered  gallery  that  is 
the  general  corridor.  The  bedrooms  open  directly 
upon  this  broad  gallery,  and  the  space  in  front  of  each 
room,  furnished  with  lounging-chairs,  table,  and  read- 
ing-lamp, is  the  sitting-room  of  each  occupant  by  day. 
There  is  never  any  jealous  hiding  behind  curtains  or 
screens.  The  whole  hotel  register  is  in  evidence,  sitting 
or  spread  in  reclining-chairs.  Men  in  pajamas  thrust 
their  bare  feet  out  bravely,  puffing  clouds  of  rank 
Sumatra  tobacco  smoke  as  they  stared  at  the  new 
arrivals ;  women  rocked  and  stared  as  if  we  were  the 
unusual  spectacle,  and  not  they ;  and  children  sprawled 
on  the  cement  flooring,  in  only  the  most  intimate  un- 
dergarments of  civilized  children.  One  turned  his  eyes 
from  one  undressed  family  group  only  to  encounter 
some  more  surprising  dishabille ;  and  meanwhile  ser- 
vants were  hanging  whole  mildewed  wardrobes  on 


A  JAVANESE  YOUNG  WOMAN. 


BATAVIA,  QUEEN  OF  THE  EAST       29 

clothes-lines  along  this  open  hotel  corridor,  while  others 
were  ironing  their  employers'  garments  on  this  com- 
munal porch. 

We  were  sure  we  had  gone  to  the  wrong  hotel ;  but 
the  Nederlanden  was  vouched  for  as  the  best,  and 
when  the  bell  sounded,  over  one  hundred  guests  came 
into  the  vaulted  dining-room  and  were  seated  at  the 
one  long  table.  The  men  wore  proper  coats  and  clothes 
at  this  midday  riz  tavel  (rice  table),  but  the  women  and 
children  came  as  they  were— saws  gtne. 

The  Batavian  day  begins  with  coffee  and  toast,  eggs 
and  fruit,  at  any  time  between  six  and  nine  o'clock ; 
and  the  affairs  of  the  day  are  despatched  before  noon, 
when  that  sacred,  solemn,  solid  feeding  function,  the 
riz  tavel,  assembles  all  in  shady,  spacious  dining-rooms, 
free  from  the  creaking  and  flapping  of  the  punka,  so 
prominent  everywhere  else  in  the  East.  Rice  is  the 
staple  of  the  midday  meal,  and  one  is  expected  to  fill 
the  soup-plate  before  him  with  boiled  rice,  and  on  that 
heap  as  much  as  he  may  select  from  eight  or  ten 
dishes,  a  tray  of  curry  condiments  being  also  passed 
with  this  great  first  course.  Bits  of  fish,  duck,  chicken, 
beef,  bird,  omelet,  and  onions  rose  upon  my  neighbors' 
plates,  and  spoonfuls  of  a  thin  curried  mixture  were 
poured  over  the  rice,  before  the  conventional  chutneys, 
spices,  cocoanut,  peppers,  and  almond  went  to  the 
conglomerate  mountain  resting  upon  the  "  rice  table  " 
below.  Beefsteak,  a  salad,  and  then  fruit  and  coffee 
brought  the  midday  meal  to  a  close.  Squeamish  folk, 
unseasoned  tourists,  and  well-starched  Britons  with 
small  sense  of  humor  complain  of  loss  of  appetite  at 
these  hotel  riz  tavels;  and  those  Britons  further 


30     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

criticize  the  way  in  which  the  Dutch  fork,  or  most  often 
the  Dutch  knife-blade,  is  loaded,  aimed,  and  shoveled 
with  a  long,  straight  stroke  to  the  Dutch  interior; 
and  they  also  criticize  the  way  in  which  portions  of 
bird  or  chicken  are  managed,  necessitating  and  explain- 
ing the  presence  of  the  finger-bowl  from  the  beginning 
of  each  meal.  But  we  forgot  all  that  had  gone  before 
when  the  feast  was  closed  with  the  mangosteen— 
nature's  final  and  most  perfect  effort  in  fruit  creation. 

After  the  riz  tavel  every  one  slumbers— as  one  nat- 
urally must  after  such  a  very  "  square  "  meal— until 
four  o'clock,  when  a  bath  and  tea  refresh  the  tropic 
soul,  the  world  dresses  in  the  full  costume  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  the  slatternly  women  of  the  earlier  hours  go 
forth  in  the  latest  finery  of  good  fortune,  twenty-six 
days  from  Amsterdam,  for  the  afternoon  driving  and 
visiting,  that  continue  to  the  nine-o'clock  dinner-hour. 
Batavian  fashion  does  not  take  its  airing  in  the  jerky 
sadoe,  but  in  roomy  "vis-a-vis"  or  barouches,  com- 
fortable "  milords"  or  giant  victorias,  that,  being  built 
to  Dutch  measures,  would  comfortably  accommodate 
three  ordinary  people  to  each  seat,  and  are  drawn  by 
gigantic  Australian  horses,  or  "  Walers  "  (horses  from 
New  South  Wales),  to  match  these  turnouts  of  Brob- 
dingnag. 

Society  is  naturally  narrow,  provincial,  colonial, 
conservative,  and  insular,  even  to  a  degree  beyond  that 
known  in  Holland.  The  governor-general,  whose  sal- 
ary is  twice  that  of  the  President  of  the  United  States, 
lives  in  a  palace  at  Buitenzorg,  forty  miles  away  in 
the  hills,  with  a  second  palace  still  higher  up  in  the 


BATAVIA,  QUEEN  OF  THE  EAST      31 

mountains,  and  comes  to  the  Batavia  palace  only  on 
state  occasions.  This  ruler  of  thirty  odd  million 
souls,  who  rules  as  a  viceroy  instructed  from  The 
Hague,  with  the  aid  of  a  secretary-general  and  a  Coun- 
cil of  the  Indies,  has,  in  addition  to  his  salary  of  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars,  an  allowance  of  sixty  thou- 
sand dollars  a  year  for  entertaining,  and  it  is  expected 
that  he  will  maintain  a  considerable  state  and  splen- 
dor. He  has  a  standing  army  of  forty  thousand, 
one  third  Europeans,  of  various  nationalities,  raised 
by  volunteer  enlistment  in  Holland,  who  are  well  paid, 
carefully  looked  after,  and  recruited  by  long  stays  at 
Buitenzorg  after  short  terms  of  service  at  the  sea. 
ports.  After  the  Indian  mutiny  the  Dutch  were  in 
great  fear  of  an  uprising  of  the  natives  of  Java,  and 
placed  less  confidence  in  native  troops.  Only  Euro- 
peans can  hold  officers'  commissions;  and  while  the 
native  soldiers  are  all  Mohammedans,  and  great  con- 
sideration is  paid  their  religious  scruples,  care  is  taken 
not  to  let  the  natives  of  any  one  province  or  district 
compose  a  majority  in  any  one  regiment,  and  these 
regiments  frequently  change  posts.  The  colonial  navy 
has  done  great  service  to  the  world  in  suppressing 
piracy  in  the  Java  Sea  and  around  the  archipelago, 
although  steam  navigation  inevitably  brought  an  end 
to  piracy  and  picturesque  adventure.  The  little  navy 
helps  maintain  an  admirable  lighthouse  service,  and 
with  such  convulsions  as  that  of  Krakatau  always 
possible,  and  changes  often  occurring  in  the  bed  of 
the  shallow  seas,  its  surveyors  are  continually  busied 
with  making  new  charts. 


32     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

The  islands  of  Amboyna,  Borneo,  Celebes,  and  Su- 
matra are  also  ruled  by  this  one  governor-general  of 
the  Netherlands  Indies,  through  residents;  and  the 
island  of  Java  is  divided  into  twenty-two  residencies 
or  provinces,  a  resident,  or  local  governor,  ruling— or, 
as  "elder  brother,"  effectually  advising— in  the  few 
provinces  ostensibly  ruled  by  native  princes.  A  resi- 
dent receives  ten  thousand  dollars  a  year,  with  house 
provided  and  a  liberal  allowance  made  for  the  extra 
incidental  expenses  of  the  position— for  traveling,  en- 
tertaining, and  acknowledging  in  degree  the  gifts  of 
native  princes.  University  graduates  are  chosen  for 
this  colonial  service,  and  take  a  further  course  in  the 
colonial  institute  at  Haarlem,  which  includes,  besides 
the  study  of  the  Malay  language,  the  economic  botany 
of  the  Indies,  Dutch  law,  and  Mohammedan  justice, 
since,  in  their  capacity  as  local  magistrates,  they  must 
make  their  decisions  conform  with  the  tenets  of  the 
Koran,  which  is  the  general  moral  law,  together  with 
the  unwritten  Javanese  code.  They  are  entitled  to 
retire  upon  a  pension  after  twenty  years  of  service— 
half  the  time  demanded  of  those  in  the  civil  service  in 
Holland.  All  these  residents  are  answerable  to  the 
secretary  of  the  colony,  appointed  by  the  crown,  and 
much  of  executive  detail  has  to  be  submitted  to  the 
home  government's  approval.  Naturally  there  is  much 
friction  between  all  these  functionaries,  and  etiquette 
is  punctilious  to  a  degree.  A  formal  court  surrounds 
the  governor-general,  and  is  repeated  in  miniature  at 
every  residency.  The  pensioned  native  sovereigns, 
princes,  and  regents  maintain  all  the  forms,  etiquette, 
and  barbaric  splendor  of  their  old  court  life,  elaborated 


BATAVIA,  QUEEN  OF  THE  EAST       33 

by  European  customs.  The  three  hundred  Dutch  of- 
ficials condescend  equally  to  the  rich  planters  and  to 
the  native  princes ;  the  planters  hate  and  deride  the 
officials ;  the  natives  hate  the  Dutch  of  either  class,  and 
despise  their  own  princes  who  are  subservient  to  the 
Dutch ;  and  the  wars  and  jealousies  of  rank  and  race 
and  caste,  of  white  and  brown,  of  native  and  imported 
folk,  flourish  with  tropical  luxuriance. 

Batavian  life  differs  considerably  from  life  in  Brit- 
ish India  and  all  the  rest  of  Asia,  where  the  British- 
built  and  conventionally  ordered  places  support  the 
same  formal  social  order  of  England  unchanged,  save 
for  a  few  luxuries  and  concessions  incident  to  the  cli- 
mate. The  Dutchman  does  not  waste  his  perspiration 
on  tennis  or  golf  or  cricket,  or  on  any  outdoor  pastime 
more  exciting  than  horse-racing.  He  does  not  make 
well-ordered  and  expensive  dinners  his  one  chosen 
form  of  hospitality.  He  dines  late  and  dines  elabo- 
rately, but  the  more  usual  form  of  entertainment  in 
Batavia  is  in  evening  receptions  or  musicales,  for  which 
the  spacious  houses,  with  their  great  white  porticos,  are 
well  adapted.  Batavian  residents  have  each  a  para- 
dise park  around  their  dwellings,  and  the  white  houses 
of  classic  architecture,  bowered  in  magnificent  trees 
and  palms,  shrubs  and  vines  and  blooming  plants,  are 
most  attractive  by  day.  At  night,  when  the  great 
portico,  which  is  drawing-room  and  living-room  and 
as  often  dining-room,  is  illuminated  by  many  lamps, 
each  lovely  villa  glows  like  a  fairyland  in  its  dark  set- 
ting. If  the  portico  lamps  are  not  lighted,  it  is  a  sign 
of  "  not  at  home,"  and  mynheer  and  his  family  may 
sitin  undress  at  their  ease.  There  are  weekly  concerts 


34     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

at  the  Harmonie  and  Concordia  clubs,  where  the  groups 
around  iron  tables  might  have  been  summoned  by  a 
magician  from  some  continental  garden.  There  are 
such, clubs  in  every  town  on  the  island,  the  govern- 
ment subsidizing  the  opera  and  supporting  military 
bands  of  the  first  order ;  and  they  furnish  society  its 
center  and  common  meeting-place.  One  sees  fine 
gowns  and  magnificent  jewels ;  ladies  wear  the  heavy 
silks  and  velvets  of  an  Amsterdam  winter  in  these 
tropical  gardens,  and  men  dance  in  black  coats  and 
broadcloth  uniforms.  Society  is  brilliant,  formal,  and 
by  lamplight  impressive ;  but  when  by  daylight  one 
meets  the  same  fair  beauties  and  bejeweled  matrons 
sockless,  in  sarongs  and  flapping  slippers,  the  disillu- 
sionment is  complete. 

The  show-places  of  Batavia  are  easily  seen  in  a  day  : 
the  old  town  hall,  the  Stadkirche,  the  lighthouse,  the 
old  warehouse,  and  the  walled  gate  of  Peter  Elberf  eld's 
house,  with  the  spiked  skull  of  that  half-caste  rebel 
against  Dutch  rule  pointing  a  more  awful  reminder 
than  the  inscription  in  several  languages  to  his  "  horrid 
memory."  The  pride  of  the  city,  and  the  most  credi- 
table thing  on  the  island,  is  the  Museum  of  the  Batavian 
Society  of  Arts  and  Sciences  ("Bataviaasch  Genoot- 
schap  von  Kunsten  en  Wepenschappen  "),  known  suf- 
ficiently to  the  world  of  science  and  letters  as  "the 
Batavian  Society,"  of  which  Sir  Stamford  Raffles  was 
the  first  great  inspirer  and  exploiter,  after  it  had 
dreamed  along  quietly  in  colonial  isolation  for  a  few 
years  of  the  last  century.  In  his  time  were  begun  the 
excavations  of  the  Hindu  temples  and  the  archaeological 
work  which  the  Dutch  government  and  the  Batavian 


BATAVIA,  QUEEN  OF  THE  EAST       36 

Society  have  since  carried  on,  and  which  have  helped 
place  that  association  among  the  foremost  learned 
societies  of  the  world.  The  museum  is  housed  in  a 
beautiful  Greek  temple  of  a  building  whose  white 
walls  are  shaded  by  magnificent  trees,  and  faces  the 
broad  Koenig's  Plein,  the  largest  parade-ground  in  the 
world,  the  Batavians  say.  The  halls,  surrounding  a 
central  court,  shelter  a  complete  and  wonderful  ex- 
hibit of  Javanese  antiquities  and  art  works,  of  arms, 
weapons,  implements,  ornaments,  costumes,  masks, 
basketry,  textiles,  musical  instruments,  models  of 
boats  and  houses,  examples  of  fine  old  metal-work,  and 
of  all  the  industries  of  these  gifted  people.  It  is  a 
place  of  absorbing  interest;  but  with  no  labels  and 
no  key  except  the  native  janitor's  pantomime,  one's 
visit  is  often  filled  with  exasperation. 

There  is  a  treasure-chamber  heaped  with  gold  shields, 
helmets,  thrones,  state  umbrellas  boxes,  salvers,  betel 
and  tobacco  sets  of  gold,  with  jeweled  daggers  and 
krises  of  finest  blades,  patterned  with  curious  veinings. 
Tributes  and  gifts  from  native  sultans  and  princes  dis- 
play the  precious  metals  in  other  curious  forms,  and  a 
fine  large  coco-de-mer,  the  fabled  twin  nut  of  the  Sey- 
chelles palm,  that  was  long  supposed  to  grow  in  some 
unknown,  mysterious  isle  of  the  sea-gods,  is  throned 
on  a  golden  base  with  all  the  honors  due  such  a  talis- 
man. The  ruined  temples  and  sites  of  abandoned  cities 
in  Middle  Java  have  yielded  rich  ornaments,  necklaces, 
ear-rings,  head-dresses,  seals,  plates,  and  statuettes  of 
gold  and  silver.  A  room  is  filled  with  bronze  weapons, 
bells,  tripods,  censers,  images,  and  all  the  appurte- 
nances of  Buddhist  worship,  characteristic  examples  of 


36     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  Greco-Buddhist  art  of  India,  which  even  more 
surprisingly  confronts  one  in  these  treasures  from  the 
jungles  of  the  far-away  tropical  island.  A  central  hall 
is  filled  with  bas-reliefs  and  statues  from  these  ruins 
of  Buddhist  and  Brahmanic  temples,  in  which  the 
Greek  influence  is  quite  as  marked,  and  Egyptian  and 
Assyrian  suggestions  in  the  sculptures  give  one  other 
ideas  to  puzzle  over. 

The  society's  library  is  rich  in  exchanges,  scientific 
and  art  publications  of  all  countries ;  and  the  row  of 
reports  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  the  Geological 
Survey  and  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  are  as  much  a  matter 
of  pride  to  the  American  visitor  as  the  framed  diplo- 
mas of  institutes  and  international  expositions  are  to 
the  Batavian  curator.  The  council-room  contains  the 
state  chairs  of  native  sovereigns,  and  portraits  and  sou- 
venirs of  the  great  explorers  and  navigators  who  passed 
this  way  in  the  last  century  and  in  the  early  years  of 
this  cycle.  Captain  Cook  left  stores  of  South  Sea 
curios  on  his  way  to  and  fro,  and  during  this  century 
the  museum  has  been  the  pet  and  pride  of  Dutch  res- 
idents and  officials,  and  the  subject  of  praise  by  all 
visitors. 

The  palace  of  the  governor-general  on  this  vast 
Koenig's  Plein  is  a  beautiful  modern  structure,  but 
more  interest  attaches  to  the  old  palace  of  the  "Water- 
loo Plein,  the  pdlys  built  by  the  great  Marshal  Daen- 
dels,  who,  supplanted  by  the  British  after  but  three 
years'  energetic  rule,  withdrew  to  Europe. 


IV 

THE   KAMPONGS 

HE  Tjina,  or  China,  and  the  Arab  Ttam- 
pangs,  are  show-places  to  the  stranger  in 
the  curious  features  of  life  and  civic  gov- 
ernment they  present.  Each  of  these 
foreign  kampongs,  or  villages,  is  under 
the  charge  of  a  captain  or  commander,  whom  the  Dutch 
authorities  hold  responsible  for  the  order  and  peace  of 
their  compatriots,  since  they  do  not  allow  to  these 
yellow  colonials  so-called  "European  freedom"— an 
expression  which  constitutes  a  sufficient  admission 
of  the  existence  of  "  Asiatic  restraint."  Great  wealth 
abides  in  both  these  alien  quarters,  whose  leading 
f amilies  have  been  there  for  generations,  and  have  ab- 
sorbed all  retail  trade,  and  as  commission  merchants, 
money-lenders,  and  middlemen  have  garnered  great 
profits  and  earned  the  hatred  of  Dutch  and  Javanese 
alike.  The  lean  and  hooked-nosed  followers  of  the 
prophet  conquered  the  island  in  the  fifteenth  century, 
and  have  built  their  messigits,  or  mosques,  in  every 
province.  The  Batavian  messigit  is  a  cool  little  blue- 

37 


38     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

and- white-tiled  building,  with  a  row  of  inlaid  wooden 
clogs  and  loose  leather  shoes  at  the  door ;  and  turbaned 
heads  within  bow  before  the  mihrab  that  points  north- 
westward to  Mecca.  Since  the  Mohammedan  conquest 
of  1475,  the  Javanese  are  Mohammedan  if  anything ; 
but  they  take  their  religion  easily,  and  are  so  luke- 
warm in  the  faith  of  the  fire  and  sword  that  they  would 
easily  relapse  to  their  former  mild  Brahmamsm  if 
Islam's  power  were  released.  The  Dutch  for  years 
prohibited  the  pilgrimages  to  Mecca,  since  those  re- 
turning with  the  green  turban  were  viewed  with  rev- 
erence and  accredited  with  supernatural  powers  that 
made  their  influence  a  menace  to  Dutch  rule.  Arab 
priests  have  always  been  enemies  of  the  government 
and  foremost  in  inciting  the  people  to  rebellion  against 
Dutch  and  native  rulers ;  but  little  active  evangelical 
work  seems  to  have  been  done  by  Christian  mission- 
aries to  counteract  Mohammedanism,  save  at  the  town 
of  Depok,  near  Batavia. 

In  all  the  banks  and  business  houses  is  found  the 
lean-fingered  Chinese  comprador,  or  accountant,  and 
the  rattling  buttons  of  his  abacus,  or  counting-board, 
play  the  inevitable  accompaniment  to  financial  trans- 
actions, as  everywhere  else  east  of  Colombo.  The  563,- 
449  Chinese  in  Netherlands  India  present  a  curious 
study  in  the  possibilities  of  their  race.  Under  the 
strong,  tyrannical  rule  of  the  Dutch  they  thrive,  show 
ambition  to  adopt  Western  ways,  and  approach  more 
nearly  to  European  standards  than  one  could  believe 
possible.  Chinese  conservatism  yields  first  in  costume 
and  social  manners ;  the  pigtail  shrinks  to  a  mere 
symbolic  wisp,  and  the  well-to-do  Batavian  Chinese 


THE  KAMPONGS  39 

dresses  faultlessly  after  the  London  model,  wears  spot- 
less duck  coat  and  trousers,  patent-leather  shoes,  and, 
in  top  or  derby  hat,  sits  complacent  in  a  handsome 
victoria  drawn  by  imported  horses,  with  liveried  Jav- 
anese on  the  box.  One  meets  correctly  gotten-up  Ce- 
lestial equestrians  trotting  around  Waterloo  Plein  or 
the  alleys  of  Buitenzorg,  each  followed  by  an  obse- 
quious groom,  the  thin  remnant  of  the  Manchu  queue 
slipped  inside  the  coat  being  the  only  thing  to  suggest 
Chinese  origin.  The  rich  Chinese  live  in  beautiful 
villas,  in  gorgeously  decorated  houses  built  on  ideal 
tropical  lines ;  and  although  having  no  political  or  so- 
cial recognition  in  the  land,  entertain  no  intention  of 
returning  to  China.  They  load  their  Malay  wives 
with  diamonds  and  jewels,  and  spend  liberally  for  the 
education  of  their  children.  The  Dutch  tax,  judge, 
punish,  and  hold  them  in  the  same  regard  as  the  na- 
tives, with  whom  they  have  intermarried  for  three 
centuries,  until  there  is  a  large  mixed  class  of  these 
Paranaks  in  every  part  of  the  island.  The  native 
hatred  of  the  Chinese  is  an  inheritance  of  those 
past  centuries  when  the  Dutch  farmed  out  the  rev- 
enue to  Chinese,  who,  being  assigned  so  many  thou- 
sand acres  of  rice-land,  and  the  forced  labor  of  the 
people  on  them,  gradually  extended  their  boundaries, 
and  by  increasing  exactions  and  secret  levies  oppressed 
the  people  with  a  tyranny  and  rapacity  the  Dutch  could 
not  approach.  In  time  the  Chinese  fomented  insur- 
rection against  the  Dutch,  and  in  1740,  joining  with 
disaffected  natives,  entrenched  themselves  in  a  sub- 
urban fort.  The  Dutch  in  alarm  gave  the  order,  and 
over  20,000  Chinese  then  within  the  walls  were  put 

8 


40     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

to  death,  not  an  infant,  a  woman,  nor  an 
person  being  spared.  In  fear  of  the  wrath  of  the 
Emperor  of  China,  elaborate  excuses  were  framed 
and  sent  to  Peking.  Sage  old  Keen-Lung  responded 
only  by  saying  that  the  Dutch  had  served  them  right, 
that  any  death  was  too  good  for  Chinese  who  would 
desert  the  graves  of  their  ancestors. 

After  that  incident  they  were  restrained  from  all 
monopolies  and  revenue  farming,  and  restricted  to 
their  present  humble  political  state.  An  absolute  ex- 
clusion act  was  passed  in  1837,  but  was  soon  revoked, 
and  the  Chinese  hold  financial  supremacy  over  both 
Dutch  and  natives,  trade  and  commerce  being  hope- 
lessly in  the  hands  of  the  skilful  Chinese  comprador. 
The  Dutch  vent  their  dislike  by  an  unmerciful  taxa- 
tion. They  formerly  assessed  them  according  to  the 
length  of  their  queues  and  for  each  long  finger-nail. 
The  Chinese  are  mulcted  on  landing  and  leaving, 
for  birth  and  death,  for  every  business  venture  and 
privilege;  yet  they  prosper  and  remain,  and  these 
Paranaks  in  a  few  more  generations  may  attain  the 
social  and  political  equality  they  seek.  It  all  proves 
that  under  a  strong,  tyrannical  government  the  Chi- 
nese make  good  citizens, -and  can  easily  put  away  the 
notions  and  superstitions  that  in  China  itself  hold 
countless  millions  in  the  bondage  of  a  long-dead 
past.  The  recent  exposure  of  Chinese  forgeries  of 
Java  bank-notes  to  the  value  of  three  million  pounds 
sterling  has  put  the  captains  of  Batavia  and  Samarang 
kampongs  in  prison,  and  has  led  to  wholesale  arrests 
of  rich  Chinese  throughout  the  island., 

Native  life  swarms  in  this  land  of  the  betel  and 


THE  KAMPONGS  41 

banana,  where  there  seems  to  be  more  of  inherent 
dream  and  calm  than  in  other  lands  of  the  lotus.  The 
Javanese  are  the  finer  flowers  of  the  Malay  race— a 
people  possessed  of  a  civilization,  arts,  and  literature 
in  that  golden  period  before  the  Mohammedan  and 
European  conquests.  They  have  gentle  voices,  gentle 
manners,  fine  and  expressive  features,  and  are  the  one 
people  of  Asia  besides  the  Japanese  who  have  real 
charm  and  attraction  for  the  alien.  They  are  more 
winning,  too,  by  contrast,  after  one  has  met  the  harsh, 
unlovely,  and  unwashed  people  of  China,  or  the  equally 
unwashed,  cringing  Hindu.  They  are  a  little  people, 
and  one  feels  the  same  indulgent,  protective  sense  as 
toward  the  Japanese.  Their  language  is  soft  and 
musical—"  the  Italian  of  the  tropics  " ;  their  ideas  are 
poetic ;  and  their  love  of  flowers  and  perfumes,  of  music 
and  the  dance,  of  heroic  plays  and  of  every  emotional 
form  of  art,  proves  them  as  innately  esthetic  as  their 
distant  cousins,  the  Japanese,  in  whom  there  is  so  large 
an  admixture  of  Malay  stock.  Their  reverence  for 
rank  and  age,  and  their  elaborate  etiquette  and  punc- 
tilious courtesy  to  one  another,  are  as  marked  even  in 
the  common  people  as  among  the  Japanese ;  but  their 
abject,  crouching  humility  before  their  Dutch  employ- 
ers, and  the  brutality  of  the  latter  to  them,  are  a  theme 
for  sadder  thinking,  and  calculated  to  make  the  blood 
boil.  When  one  actually  sees  the  quiet,  inoffensive 
peddlers,  who  chiefly  beseech  with  their  eyes,  furiously 
kicked  out  of  the  hotel  courtyard  when  mynheer  does 
not  choose  to  buy,  and  native  children  actually  lifted 
by  an  ear  and  hurled  away  from  the  vantage-point  on 
the  curbstone  which  a  pajamaed  Dutchman  wishes  for 


42     JAVA:  THE  GAEDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

himself  while  some  troops  march  by,  one  is  content 
not  to  see  or  know  any  more. 

These  friendly  little  barefoot  people  are  of  endless 
interest,  and  their  daily  markets,  or  passers,  are  pan- 
oramas of  life  and  color  that  one  longs  to  transplant 
entire.  Life  is  so  simple  and  primitive,  too,  in  the 
sunshine  and  warmth  of  the  tropics.  A  bunch  of  ba- 
nanas, a  basket  of  steamed  rice,  and  a  leaf  full  of  betel 
preparations  comprise  the  necessaries  and  luxuries  of 
daily  living.  With  the  rice  may  go  many  peppers  and 
curried  messes  of  ground  cocoanut,  which  one  sees 
made  and  offered  for  sale  in  small  dabs  laid  on  bits 
of  banana-leaf,  the  wrapping-paper  of  the  tropics. 
Pinned  with  a  cactus-thorn,  a  bit  of  leaf  makes  a  prim- 
itive bag,  bowl,  or  cup,  and  a  slip  of  it  serves  as  a  sylvan 
spoon.  All  classes  chew  the  betel-  or  areca-nut,  bits  of 
which,  wrapped  in  betel-leaf  with  lime,  furnish  cheer 
and  stimulant,  dye  the  mouth,  and  keep  the  lips  stream- 
ing with  crimson  juice.  In  Canton  and  in  all  Cochin 
China,  across  the  peninsula,  and  throughout  island 
and  continental  India,  men  and  women  have  equal 
delight  in  this  peppery  stimulant.  The  Javanese 
lays  his  quid  of  betel  tobacco  between  the  lower  lip  and 
teeth,  and  so  great  seem  to  be  the  solace  and  comfort 
of  it  that  dozing  venders  and  peddlers  will  barely  turn 
an  eye  and  grunt  responses  to  one's  eager  "  Brapa  f  " 
("How  much?") 

Peddlers  bring  to  one's  doorway  fine  Bantam  bas- 
ketry and  bales  of  the  native  cotton  cloth,  or  battek, 
patterned  in  curious  designs  that  have  been  in  use  from 
time  out  of  mind.  These  native  art  fabrics  are  sold 
at  the  passers  also,  and  one  soon  recognizes  the  con- 


THE  KAMPONGS  45 

ventional  designs,  and  distinguishes  the  qualities  and 
merits  of  these  hand-patterned  cottons  that  constitute 
the  native  dress.  The  sarong,  or  skirt,  worn  by  men 
and  women  alike,  is  a  strip  of  cotton  two  yards  long 
and  one  yard  deep,  which  is  drawn  tightly  around  the 
hips,  the  fullness  gathered  in  front,  and  by  an  adroit 
twist  made  so  firm  that  a  belt  is  not  necessary  to  na- 
tive wearers.  The  sarong  has  always  one  formal  panel 
design,  which  is  worn  at  the  front  or  side,  and  the 
rest  of  the  surface  is  covered  with  the  intricate  orna- 
ments in  which  native  fancy  runs  riot.  There  are 
geometrical  and  line  combinations,  in  which  appear  the 
swastika  and  the  curious  latticings  of  central  Asia; 
others  are  as  bold  and  natural  as  anything  Japanese ; 
and  in  others  still,  the  palm-leaves  and  quaint 
animal  forms  of  India  and  Persia  attest  the  rival  art 
influences  that  have  swept  over  these  refined,  adaptive, 
assimilative  people.  One  favorite  serpentine  pattern 
running  in  diagonal  lines  does  not  need  explanation 
in  this  land  of  gigantic  worms  and  writhing  crawlers ; 
nor  that  other  pattern  where  centipedes  and  insect 
forms  cover  the  ground ;  nor  that  where  the  fronds  of 
cocoa-palm  wave,  and  the  strange  shapes  of  mangos, 
jacks,  and  breadfruit  are  interwoven.  The  deer  and 
tapir,  and  the  "  hunting-scene  "  patterns  are  reserved 
for  native  royalty's  exclusive  wear.  In  village  and 
wayside  cottages  up-country  we  afterward  watched 
men  and  women  painting  these  cloths,  tracing  a  first 
outline  in  a  rich  brown  waxy  dye,  which  is  the  foun- 
dation and  dominant  color  in  all  these  batteks.  The 
parts  which  are  to  be  left  white  are  covered  with  wax, 
and  the  cloth  is  dipped  in  or  brushed  over  with  the 


46     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

dye.  This  resist,  or  mordant,  must  be  applied  for  each 
color,  and  the  wax  afterwards  steamed  out  in  hot 
water,  so  that  a  sarong  goes  through  many  processes 
and  handlings,  and  is  often  the  work  of  weeks.  The 
dyes  are  applied  hot  through  a  little  tin  funnel  of  an 
implement  tapering  down  to  a  thin  point,  which  is  used 
like  a  painter's  brush,  but  will  give  the  fine  line-  and 
dot-work  of  a  pen-and-ink  drawing.  The  sarong's  value 
depends  upon  the  fineness  of  the  drawing,  the  elabo- 
rateness of  the  design,  and  the  number  of  colors  em- 
ployed ;  and  beginning  as  low  as  one  dollar,  these  bril- 
liant cottons,  or  hand-painted  calico  sarongs,  increase 
in  price  to  even  twenty  or  thirty  dollars.  The  Dutch 
ladies  vie  with  one  another  in  their  sarongs  as  much  as 
native  women,  and  their  dishabille  dress  of  the  early 
hours  has  not  always  economy  to  recommend  it.  The 
battek  also  appears  in  the  slandang,  or  long  shoulder- 
scarf,  which  used  to  match  the  sarong  and  complete 
the  native  costume  when  passed  under  the  arms  and 
crossed  at  the  back,  thus  covering  the  body  from  the 
armpits  to  the  waist.  It  is  still  worn  knotted  over  the 
mother's  shoulder  as  a  sling  or  hammock  for  a  child ; 
but  Dutch  fashion  has  imposed  the  same  narrow,  tight- 
sleeved  Itabaia,  the  baju,  or  jacket,  that  Dutch  women 
wear  with  the  sarong.  The  kam  Jcapala,  a  square  hand- 
kerchief tied  around  men's  heads  as  a  variant  of  the 
turban,  is  of  the  same  figured  battek,  and,  with  the 
slandang,  often  exhibits  charming  color  combinations 
and  intricate  Persian  designs.  When  one  conquers 
his  prejudices  and  associated  ideas  enough  to  pay 
seemingly  fancy  prices  for  these  examples  of  free-hand 
calico  printing,  the  taste  grows,  and  he  soon  shares 


THE  KAMPONGS  47 

the  native  longing  for  a  sarong  of  every  standard  and 
novel  design. 

The  native  silversmiths  hammer  out  good  designs  in 
silver  relief  for  betel-  and  tobacco-boxes,  and  exhibit 
great  taste  and  invention  in  belt-  and  jacket-clasps,  and 
in  heavy  knobs  of  hairpins  and  ear-rings,  that  are 
often  made  of  gold  and  incrusted  over  with  gems  for 
richer  folk. 

There  are  no  historic  spots  nor  show-places  of  na- 
tive creation  in  Batavia ;  no  kratons,  or  dloon-aloons,  as 
their  palaces  and  courtyards  are  called ;  and  only  a 
sentimental  interest  for  a  virtual  exile  pining  in  his 
own  country  is  attached  to  the  villa  of  Raden  Saleh. 
This  son  of  the  regent  of  Samarang  was  educated  in 
Europe,  and  lived  there  for  twenty-three  years,  devel- 
oping decided  talents  as  an  artist,  and  enjoying  the 
friendship  of  many  men  of  rank  and  genius  on  the 
Continent,  among  the  latter  being  Eugene  Sue,  who 
is  said  to  have  taken  Raden  Saleh  as  model  for  the 
Eastern  Prince  in  "  The  Wandering  Jew."  In  Java  he 
found  himself  sadly  isolated  from  his  own  people  by 
his  European  tastes  and  habits ;  and  he  had  little  in 
common  with  the  coarse,  rapacious  mynheers  whose 
sole  thoughts  were  of  crops  and  gulden.  "  Coffee  and 
sugar,  sugar  and  coffee,  are  all  that  is  talked  here.  It  is 
a  dreary  atmosphere  for  an  artist,"  said  Raden  Saleh  to 
D' Almeida,  who  visited  him  at  Batavia  sixty  odd  years 
ago.  He  has  left  a  monument  of  his  taste  in  this  charm- 
ing villa,  in  a  park  whose  land  is  now  a  vegetable-patch, 
its  shady  pleasance  a  beer-garden  and  exposition- 
ground,  and  the  sign  uTu  Huur"  ("To  Hire")  hung 
from  the  royal  entrance.  The  exposition  of  arts  and 


48     JAVA:  THE  GAKDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

industries  in  these  grounds  in  1893  was  a  great  event 
in  Java,  the  governor-general  Van  der  Wyk  opening 
and  closing  the  fair  by  electric  signal,  and  the  natives 
making  a  particularly  interesting  display  of  their  pro- 
ducts and  crafts. 


TO  TH  M  HILLS 


NE'S  most  earnest  desire,  in  the  scorch  of 
Batavian  noondays  and  stifling  Batavian 
nights,  is  to  seek  refuge  in  "the  hills" 
—in  the  dark-green  groves  and  forests 
of  the  Blue  Mountains,  that  are  ranged 
with  such  admirable  effect  as  background  when  one 
steams  in  from  the  Java  Sea.  At  Buitenzorg,  only 
forty  miles  away  and  seven  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
above  the  sea,  heat-worn  people  find  refuge  in  an  en- 
tirely different  climate,  an  atmosphere  of  bracing 
clearness  tempered  to  moderate  summer's  warmth. 
Buitenzorg  ("without  care"),  the  Dutch  Sans  Souci, 
has  been  a  general  refuge  and  sanitarium  for  Euro- 
peans, the  real  seat  of  government,  and  the  home  of  the 
governor-general  for  more  than  a  century.  It  is  the 
pride  and  show-place  of  Java,  the  great  center  of  its 
social  lif  e,  leisure  interests,  and  attractions.  The  higher 
officials  and  many  Batavian  merchants  and  bankers 
have  homes  at  Buitenzorg,  and  residents  from  other 
parts  of  the  island  make  it  their  place  of  recreation 
and  goal  of  holiday  trips. 

49 


50     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

Undressed  Batavia  was  just  rousing  from  its  after- 
noon nap,  and  the  hotel  court  was  surrounded  with 
barefoot  guests  in  battek  pajamas  and  scant  sarongs, 
a  sockless,  collarless,  unblushing  company,  that  yawned 
and  stared  as  we  drove  away,  rejoicing  to  leave  this 
Sans  Gene  for  Sans  Souci.  The  Weltevreden  Station, 
on  the  vast  Koenig's  Plein,  a  spacious,  stone-floored 
building,  whose  airy  halls  and  waiting-  and  refreshment- 
rooms  are  repeated  on  almost  as  splendid  scale  at  all  the 
large  towns  of  the  island,  was  enlivened  with  groups 
of  military  officers,  whose  heavy  broadcloth  uniforms, 
trailing  sabers,  and  clanking  spurs  transported  us  back 
from  the  tropics  to  some  chilly  European  railway- 
station,  and  presented  the  extreme  contrast  of  colonial 
life.  The  train  that  came  panting  from  Tandjon  Priok 
was  made  up  of  first-,  second-,  and  third-class  cars,  all 
built  on  the  American  plan,  in  that  they  were  long 
cars  and  not  carriages,  and  we  entered  through  doors 
at  the  end  platforms.  The  first-class  cars  swung  on 
easy  springs ;  there  were  modern  car- windows  in  tight 
frames,  also  window-frames  of  wire  netting;  while 
thick  wooden  Venetians  outside  of  all,  and  a  double 
roof,  protected  as  much  as  possible  from  the  sun's  heat. 
The  deep  arm-chair  seats  were  upholstered  with  thick 
leather  cushions,  the  walls  were  set  with  blue-and- white 
tiles  repeating  Mauve's  and  Mesdag's  pictures,  and  ad- 
justable tables,  overhead  racks,  and  a  dressing-room 
furnished  all  the  railroad  comforts  possible.  The  rail- 
way service  of  Netherlands  India  is  a  vast  improvement 
on,  and  its  cars  are  in  striking  contrast  to,  the  loose- 
windowed,  springless,  dusty,  hard-benched  carriages  in 
which  first-class  passengers  are  jolted  across  British 


TO  THE  HILLS  51 

India.  The  second-class  cars  in  Java  rest  on  springs 
also,  but  more  passengers  are  put  in  a  compartment, 
and  the  fittings  are  simpler ;  while  the  open  third-class 
cars,  where  native  passengers  are  crowded  together, 
have  a  continuous  window  along  each  side,  and  the 
benches  are  often  without  backs.  The  fares  average 
2.2  United  States  cents  a  kilometer  (about  five  eighths 
of  a  mile)  for  first  class,  1.6  cents  second  class,  and  6 
mills  third  class.  The  first-class  fare  from  Batavia  to 
Sourabaya,  at  the  east  end  of  the  island,  is  but  50 
gulden  ($20)  for  the  940-kilometer  journey,  accom- 
plished in  two  days'  train-travel  of  twelve  and  fourteen 
hours  each,  so  that  the  former  heavy  expense  (over  a 
dollar  a  mile  for  post-horses,  after  one  had  bought  or 
rented  a  traveling-carriage)  and  the  delays  of  travel 
in  Java  are  done  away  with. 

The  rail  ways  have  been  built  by  both  the  government 
and  private  corporations,  connecting  and  working  to- 
gether, the  first  line  dating  from  1875.  The  continu- 
ous railway  line  across  the  island  was  completed  and 
opened  with  official  ceremonies  in  November,  1894. 
The  gap  of  one  hundred  miles  or  more  across  the  "terra 
ingrata,"  the  low-lying  swamp  and  fever  regions  either 
side  of  Tjilatjap,  had  existed  for  years  after  the 
track  was  completed  to  the  east  and  west  of  it.  Dutch 
engineers  built  and  manage  the  road,  but  the  staff,  the 
working  force  of  the  line,  are  natives,  or  Chinese  of 
the  more  or  less  mixed  but  educated  class  filling  the 
middle  ground  between  Europeans  and  natives,  be- 
tween the  upper  and  lower  ranks.  Wonderful  skill 
was  shown  in  leading  the  road  over  the  mountains, 
and  in  building  a  firm  track  and  bridges  through  the 


52     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

reeking  swamps,  where  no  white  man  could  labor, 
even  if  he  could  live.  The  trains  do  not  run  at  night, 
which  would  be  a  great  advantage  in  a  hot  country, 
for  the  reason  that  the  train  crews  are  composed 
entirely  of  natives  (since  such  work  is  considered  be- 
neath the  grade  of  any  European),  and  the  cautious 
Dutch  will  not  trust  native  engineers  after  dark. 
Through  trains  start  from  either  end  of  the  line  and 
from  the  half-way  stations  at  five  and  six  o'clock  each 
morning,  and  run  until  the  short  twilight  and  pitch- 
darkness  that  so  quickly  succeed  the  unchanging  six- 
o'clock  tropical  sunset.  These  early  morning  starts, 
and  the  eight-  and  nine-o'clock  dinner  of  the  Java  hotels, 
make  travel  most  wearisome.  One  may  buy  fruit  at 
every  station  platform,  and  always  tea,  coffee,  choco- 
late, wine  and  schnapps,  bread  and  biscuits  at  the 
station  buffets.  At  the  larger  stations  there  are  din- 
ing-rooms, or  a  service  of  lunch-baskets,  in  which  the 
Gargantuan  riz  tavel,  or  luncheon,  is  served  hot  in 
one's  compartment  as  the  train  moves  on. 

The  hour-and-a-half's  ride  from  Batavia  to  Buiten- 
zorg  gave  us  an  epitome  of  tropical  landscapes  as  the 
train  ran  between  a  double  panorama  of  beauty. 
The  soil  was  a  deep,  intense  red,  as  if  the  heat  of  the 
sun  and  the  internal  fires  of  this  volcanic  belt  had 
warmed  the  fruitful  earth  to  this  glowing  color,  which 
contrasted  so  strongly  with  the  complemental  green 
of  grain  and  the  groves  of  palms  and  cacao-trees.  The 
level  rice-fields  were  being  plowed,  worked,  flooded, 
planted,  weeded,  and  harvested  side  by  side,  the  sev- 
eral crops  of  the  year  going  on  continuously,  with  seem- 
ingly no  regard  to  seasons.  Nude  little  boys,  astride 


TO  THE  HILLS  56 

of  smooth  gray  water-buffaloes,  posed  statuesquely 
while  those  leisurely  animals  browsed  afield ;  and  no 
pastoral  pictures  of  Java  remain  clearer  in  memory 
than  those  of  patient  little  brown  children  sitting 
half  days  and  whole  days  on  buffalo-back,  to  brush 
flies  and  guide  the  stupid-looking  creatures  to  greener 
and  more  luscious  bits  of  herbage.  Many  stories  are 
told  of  the  affection  the  water-ox  often  manifests  for 
his  boy  keeper,  killing  tigers  and  snakes  in  his  defense, 
and  performing  prodigies  of  valor  and  intelligence ; 
but  one  doubts  the  tales  the  more  he  sees  of  this  hid- 
eous beast  of  Asia.  Men  and  women  were  wading 
knee-deep  in  paddy-field  muck,  transplanting  the  green 
rice-shoots  from  the  seed-beds,  and  picturesque  harvest 
groups  posed  in  tableaux,  as  the  train  shrieked  by. 
Children  rolled  at  play  before  the  gabled  baskets  of 
houses  clustered  in  toy  villages  beneath  the  inevitable 
cocoa-palms  and  bananas,  the  combination  of  those  two 
useful  trees  being  the  certain  sign  of  a  kampong,  or 
village,  when  the  braided-bamboo  houses  are  invisible. 
At  Depok  there  was  a  halt  to  pass  the  down-train,  and 
the  natives  of  this  one  Christian  village  and  mission- 
station,  the  headquarters  of  evangelical  work  in  Java, 
flocked  to  the  platform  with  a  prize  horticultural  display 
of  all  the  fruits  of  the  season  for  sale.  The  record  of 
mission  work  in  Java  is  a  short  one,  as,  after  casting 
out  the  Portuguese  Jesuit  missionaries,  the  Dutch  for- 
bade any  others  to  enter,  and  Spanish  rule  in  Holland 
had  perhaps  taught  them  not  to  try  to  impose  a  strange 
religion  on  a  people.  During  Sir  Stamford  Raflles's 
rule,  English  .evangelists  began  work  among  the  na- 
tives, but  were  summarily  interrupted  and  obliged  to 


56      JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

withdraw  when  Java  was  returned  to  Holland.  All 
missionaries  were  strictly  excluded  until  the  hu- 
manitarian agitation  in  Europe,  which  resulted  in  the 
formal  abolition  of  slavery  and  the  gradual  abandon- 
ment of  the  culture  system,  led  the  government  to  do 
a  little  for  the  Christianization  and  education  of  the 
people.  The  government  supports  twenty-nine  Prot- 
estant pastors  and  ten  Roman  Catholic  priests,  pri- 
marily for  the  spiritual  benefit  of  the  European 
residents,  and  their  spheres  are  exactly  denned — 
proselytizing  and  mutual  rivalries  being  forbidden. 
Missionaries  from  other  countries  are  not  allowed  to 
settle  and  work  among  the  people,  and  whatever  may 
be  said  against  this  on  higher  moral  grounds,  the 
colonial  government  has  escaped  endless  friction  with 
the  consuls  and  governments  of  other  countries.  The 
authorities  have  been  quite  willing  to  let  the  natives 
enjoy  their  mild  Mohammedanism,  and  our  Moslem 
servant  spoke  indifferently  of  mission  efforts  at  Depok, 
with  no  scorn,  no  contempt,  and  apparently  no  hostility 
to  the  European  faith. 

Until  recently,  no  steps  were  taken  to  educate  the 
Javanese,  and  previous  to  1864  they  were  not  allowed 
to  study  the  Dutch  language.  All  colonial  officers 
are  obliged  to  learn  Low  Malay,  that  being  the  recog- 
nized language  of  administration  and  justice,  in- 
stead of  the  many  Javanese  and  Sundanese  dialects, 
with  their  two  forms  of  polite  and  common  speech. 
These  officials  receive  promotion  and  preferment  as 
they  make  progress  in  the  spoken  and  written  lan- 
guage. Low  Malay  is  the  most  readily  acquired  of  all 
languages,  as  there  are  no  harsh  gutturals  or  difficult 


TO  THE  HILLS  57 

consonants,  and  the  construction  is  very  simple.  Chil- 
dren who  learn  the  soft,  musical  Malay  first  have  diffi- 
culty with  the  harsh  Dutch  sounds,  while  the  Dutch 
who  learn  Malay  after  their  youth  never  pronounce  it 
as  well  or  as  easily  as  they  pronounce  French.  The  few 
Javanese,  even  those  of  highest  rank,  who  acquired  the 
Dutch  language  and  attempted  to  use  it  in  conversa- 
tion with  officials,  used  to  be  bruskly  answered  in 
Malay,  an  implication  that  the  superior  language  was 
reserved  for  Europeans  only.  This  helped  the  con- 
querors to  keep  the  distinctions  sharply  drawn  between 
them  and  their  subject  people,  and  while  they  could 
always  understand  what  the  natives  were  saying,  the 
Dutch  were  free  to  talk  together  without  reserve  in  the 
presence  of  servants  or  princes.  Dutch  is  now  taught 
in  the  schools  for  natives  maintained  by  the  colonial 
government,  201  primary  schools  having  been  opened 
in  1887,  with  an  attendance  of  39,707  pupils.  The 
higher  schools  at  Batavia  have  been  opened  to  the  sons 
of  native  officials  and  such  rich  Javanese  as  can  afford 
them,  and  conservatives  lament  the  " spoiling"  of  the 
natives  with  all  that  the  government  now  does  for 
them.  They  complain  that  the  Javanese  are  becoming 
too  "independent"  since  schoolmasters,  independent 
planters,  and  tourists  came,  just  as  the  old-style  foreign 
residents  of  India,  the  Straits,  China,  and  Japan  bemoan 
the  progressive  tendencies  and  upheavals  of  this  era 
of  Asiatic  awakening  and  enlightenment ;  and  tourist 
travel  is  always  harped  upon  as  the  most  offending  and 
corrupting  cause  of  the  changes  in  the  native  spirit. 

Once  above  the  general  level  of  low-lying  rice-lands, 
cacao-plantations  succeeded   one  another  for  miles 


58     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

beyond  Depok ;  the  small  trees  hung  full  of  fat  pods 
just  ripening  into  reddish  brown  and  crimson.  The 
air  was  noticeably  cooler  in  the  hills,  and  as  the  shad- 
ows lengthened  the  near  green  mountains  began  to 
tower  in  shapes  of  lazuli  mist,  and  a  sky  of  soft,  sur- 
passing splendor  made  ready  for  its  sunset  pageant. 
When  we  left  the  train  we  were  whirled  through  the 
twilight  of  great  avenues  of  trees  to  the  hotel,  and 
given  rooms  whose  veranda  overhung  a  strangely 
rustling,  shadowy  abyss,  where  we  could  just  discern 
a  dark  silver  line  of  river  leading  to  the  pale-yellow 
west,  with  the  mountain  mass  of  Salak  cut  in  gigantic 
purple  silhouette. 

The  ordinary  bedroom  of  a  Java  hotel,  with  latticed 
doors  and  windows,  contains  one  or  two  beds,  each 
seven  feet  square,  hung  with  starched  muslin  curtains 
that  effectually  exclude  the  air,  as  well  as  lizards  or 
winged  things.  The  bedding,  as  at  Singapore,  con- 
sists of  a  hard  mattress  with  a  sheet  drawn  over  it,  a 
pair  of  hard  pillows,  and  a  long  bolster  laid  down  the 
middle  as  a  cooling  or  dividing  line.  Blankets  or  other 
coverings  are  unneeded  and  unknown,  but  it  takes  one 
a  little  time  to  become  acclimated  to  that  order  in  the 
penetrating  dampness  of  the  dewy  and  reeking  hours 
before  dawn.  If  one  makes  protest  enough,  a  thin 
blanket  will  be  brought,  but  so  camphorated  and  mil- 
dew-scented as  to  be  insupportable.  Pillows  are  not 
stuffed  with  feathers,  but  with  the  cooler,  dry,  elastic 
down  of  the  straight-armed  cotton-tree,  which  one  sees 
growing  everywhere  along  the  highways,  its  rigid, 
right-angled  branches  inviting  their  use  as  the  regula- 
tion telegraph-pole.  The  floors  are  made  of  a  smooth, 


TO  THE  HILLS  69 

hard  cement,  which  harbors  no  insects,  and  can  be  kept 
clean  and  cool.  Pieces  of  coarse  ratan  matting  are  the 
only  floor-coverings  used,  and  give  an  agreeable  con- 
trast to  the  dirty  felts,  dhurries,  and  carpets,  the 
patches  of  wool  and  cotton  and  matting,  spread  over 
the  earth  or  wooden  floors  of  the  unspeakable  hotels 
of  British  India.  And  yet  the  Javanese  hotels  are  dis- 
appointing to  those  who  know  the  solid  comforts  and 
immaculate  order  of  certain  favorite  hostelries  of  The 
Hague  and  Amsterdam.  Everything  is  done  to  secure 
a  free  circulation  of  air,  as  a  room  that  is  closed  for  a 
day  gets  a  steamy,  mildewed  atmosphere,  and  if  closed 
for  three  days  blooms  with  green  mold  over  every 
inch  of  its  walls  and  floors.  The  section  of  portico 
outside  each  room  at  Buitenzorg  was  decently  screened 
off  to  serve  as  a  private  sitting-room  for  each  guest 
or  family  in  the  hours  of  startling  dishabille ;  and  as 
soon  as  the  sun  went  down  a  big  hanging-lamp  assem- 
bled an  entomological  congress.  Every  hotel  provides 
as  a  night-lamp  for  the  bedroom  a  tumbler  with  an 
inch  of  cocoanut-oil,  and  a  tiny  tin  and  cork  arrange- 
ment for  floating  a  wick  on  its  surface.  For  the  twelve 
hours  of  pitch-darkness  this  little  lightning-bug  con- 
trivance burns  steadily,  emitting  a  delicious  nutty 
fragrance,  and  allowing  one  to  watch  the  unpleasant 
shadows  of  the  lizards  running  over  the  walls  and  bed- 
curtains,  and  to  look  for  the  larger,  poisonous  brown 
gecko,  whose  unpleasant  voice  calling  "  Becky!  Becky! 
Becky! "  in  measured  gasps,  six  times,  over  and  over 
again,  is  the  actual,  material  nightmare  of  the  tropics. 
British  tourists,  unmindful  of  the  offending  of  their 
own  India  in  more  vital  matters,  berate  and  scorn  the 

4 


60     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

tiny  water-pitcher  and  basin  of  the  Java  hotels,  brought 
from  the  continent  of  Europe  unchanged ;  and  rage  at 
the  custom  of  guests  in  Java  hotels  emptying  their 
basins  out  of  doors  or  windows  on  tropical  shrubbery 
or  courtyard  pavings  at  will.  There  are  swimming- 
pools  at  some  hotels  and  in  many  private  houses,  but 
the  usual  bath-room  of  the  land  offers  the  traveler  a 
barrel  and  a  dipper.  One  is  expected  to  ladle  the 
water  out  and  dash  it  over  him  in  broken  doses,  and 
as  the  swimming-pool  is  a  rinsing-tub  for  the  many, 
the  individual  is  besought  not  to  use  soap.  Naturally 
the  British  tourist's  invectives  are  deep  and  loud  and 
long,  and  he  will  not  believe  that  the  dipper-bath  is 
more  cooling  than  to  soak  and  soap  and  scour  in  a 
comfortable  tub  of  his  own.  He  will  not  be  silenced 
or  comforted  in  this  tubless  tropical  land,  which,  if 
it  had  only  remained  under  British  rule,  might  be— 
would  be— etc.  All  suffering  tourists  agree  with  him, 
however,  that  the  worst  laundering  in  the  world  be- 
falls one's  linen  in  Java,  the  cloth-destroying,  button- 
exterminating  dhoble  man  of  Ceylon  and  India  being 
a  careful  and  conscientious  artist  beside  the  clothes- 
pounder  of  Java.  In  making  the  great  circle  of  the 
earth  westward  one  leaves  the  last  of  laundry  luxury 
at  Singapore,  and  continues  to  suffer  until,  in  the  sub- 
stratum of  French  civilization  in  Egypt,  he  finds  the 
blanchisseuse. 

The  order  of  living  is  the  same  at  the  up-country 
hotels  as  at  Batavia,  and  the  charges  are  the  same 
everywhere  in  Java,  averaging  about  three  dollars  gold 
each  day,  everything  save  wine  included ;  and  at  Bui- 
tenzorg  corkage  was  charged  on  the  bottle  of  filtered 


TO  THE  HILLS  61 

water  which  a  dyspeptic  tourist  manufactured  with  a 
patent  apparatus  he  carried  with  him.  Landlords  do 
not  recognize  nor  deal  with  fractions  of  days,  if  they 
can  help  it,  in  charging  one  for  board  on  this  "  Ameri- 
can plan  " ;  but  when  that  reckless  royal  tourist,  the 
King  of  Siam,  makes  battle  over  his  Java  hotel  bills, 
lesser  travelers  may  well  take  courage  and  follow  his 
example.  The  King  of  Siam  has  erected  commemora- 
tive columns  crowned  with  white  marble  elephants, 
as  souvenirs  of  his  visits  to  Singapore  and  Batavia, 
and  after  the  king's  financial  victory  over  Buitenzorg 
and  Garoet  hotels,  the  tourist  sees  the  white  elephant 
as  a  symbol  of  victory  more  personally  and  immedi- 
ately significant  than  the  lion  on  the  Waterloo  column. 
It  has  been  said  that  "  no  invalid  nor  dyspeptic  should 
enter  the  portals  of  a  Java  hotel,"  and  this  cannot  be 
insisted  upon  too  strongly,  to  deter  any  such  sufferers 
from  braving  the  sunrise  breakfasts  and  bad  coffee,  the 
heavy  riz  tavel,  and  the  long-delayed  dinner-hour,  solely 
for  the  sake  of  tropical  scenery  and  vegetation,  and 
a  study  of  Dutch  colonial  life. 


VI 

A  DUTCH  SANS   SOUCI 

[T  daylight  we  saw  that  our  portico  looked 
full  upon  the  front  of  Mount  Salak,  green 
to  the  very  summit  with  plantations  and 
primeval  forests.  Deep  down  below  us 
lay  a  valley  of  Eden,  where  thousands  of 
palm-trees  were  in  constant  motion,  their  branches 
bending,  swaying,  and  fluttering  as  softly  as  ostrich- 
plumes  to  the  eye,  but  with  a  strange,  harsh,  metal- 
lic rustle  and  clash,  different  from  the  whispers  and 
sighs  and  cooing  sounds  of  temperate  foliage.  As 
stronger  winds  threshed  the  heavy  leaves,  the  level  of 
the  valley  rippled  and  tossed  in  green  billows  like  a 
barley-field.  There  was  a  basket  village  on  the  river- 
bank,  where  tropic  life  went  on  in  as  plain  pantomime 
as  in  any  stage  presentation.  At  sunrise  the  people 
came  out  of  their  fragile  toy  houses,  stretched  their 
arms  to  the  sky  arid  yawned,  took  a  swim  in  the  river, 
and  then  gathered  in  the  dewy  shade  to  eat  their 
morning  curry  and  rice  from  their  plantain-leaf  plates. 
Then  the  baskets  and  cooking-utensils  were  held  in 
the  swift-flowing  stream,— such  a  fastidious,  ideal, 

62 


A  DUTCH  SANS  SOUCI  65 

adorable  sort  of  dish-washing!— and  the  little  com- 
munity turned  to  its  daily  vocations.  The  men  went 
away  to  work,  or  sat  hammering  and  hewing  with 
implements  strangely  Japanese,  and  held  in  each  in- 
stance in  the  Japanese  way.  The  women  pounded 
and  switched  clothing  to  and  fro  in  the  stream,  and 
spread  it  out  in  white  and  brilliant-colored  mosaics 
on  the  bank  to  dry.  They  plaited  baskets  and  painted 
sarongs,  and  the  happy  brown  children,  in  nature's 
dress,  rolled  at  play  under  the  cocoanut-trees,  or 
splashed  like  young  frogs  in  and  out  of  the  stream. 

While  this  went  on  below,  and  we  watched  the  dark 
indigo  mass  of  Salak  turning  from  purple  and  azure 
to  sunlit  greens  in  the  light  of  early  day,  the  break- 
fast of  the  country  was  brought  to  our  porch :  cold 
toast,  cold  meats,  eggs,  fruit,  tea  or  the  very  worst 
coffee  in  all  the  world— something  that  even  the 
American  railway  restaurant  and  frontier  hotel  would 
spurn  with  scorn.  Java  coffee,  in  Java,  comes  to  one 
in  a  stoppered  glass  bottle  or  cruet,  a  dark-brown  fluid 
that  might  as  well  be  walnut  catsup,  old  port,  or  New 
Orleans  molasses.  This  double  extract  of  coffee,  made 
by  cold  filtration,  is  diluted  with  hot  water  and  hot 
milk  to  a  muddy,  gray-brown,  lukewarm  drink,  that 
is  uniformly  bad  in  every  hotel  and  public  place  of 
refreshment  that  a  tourist  encounters  on  the  island. 
In  private  houses,  where  the  fine  Arabian  berry  is 
toasted  and  powdered,  and  the  extract  made  fresh 
each  day,  the  morning  draught  is  quite  another  fluid, 
and  worthy  the  cachet  the  name  of  Java  gives  to  coffee 
in  far  countries. 

Buitenzorg,  the  Bogor  of  the  natives,  who  will  not 


66     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

call  it  by  its  newer  name,  is  one  of  the  enchanted 
spots  where  days  can  slip  by  in  dateless  delight ;  one 
forgets  the  calendar  and  the  flight  of  time,  and  hardly 
remembers  the  heavy,  sickening  heat  of  Batavia  stew- 
ing away  on  the  plains  below.  It  is  the  Versailles  of 
the  island,  the  seat  of  the  governor-general's  court, 
and  the  social  life  of  the  colony,  a  resort  for  officials 
and  the  leisure  class,  and  for  invalids  and  the  delicate, 
who  find  strength  in  the  clear,  fresh  air  of  the  hills, 
the  cool  nights,  and  the  serenely  tempered  days,  each 
with  its  reviving  shower  the  year  round.  Buitenzorg  is 
the  Simla  of  Netherlands  India,  but  it  awaits  its  Kip- 
ling to  record  its  social  life  in  clear-cut,  instantaneous 
pictures.  There  are  strange  pictures  for  the  Kipling- 
to  sketch,  too,  since  the  sarong  and  the  native  jacket 
are  as  much  the  regular  morning  dress  for  ladies  at. the 
cool,  breezy  hill-station  as  in  sweltering  Batavia,  a 
fact  rather  disproving  the  lowland  argument  that  the 
heat  demands  such  extraordinary  concessions  in  cos- 
tume. But  as  that  "  Bengal  Civilian  "  who  wrote  "De 
Zieke  Reiziger;  or,  Rambles  in  Java  in  1852,"  and  com- 
mented so  freely  upon  Dutch  costume,  cuisine,  and  Sab- 
bath-keeping, succeeded,  Mr.  Money  said,  in  shutting 
every  door  to  the  English  traveler  for  years  afterward, 
and  added  extra  annoyances  to  the  toelatings-kaart 
system,  budding  and  alien  Kiplings  may  take  warniu  < ;. 
The  famous  Botanical  Garden  at  Buitenzorg  is  the 
great  show-place,  the  paradise  and  pride  of  the  island. 
The  Dutch  are  ncknowledgedly  the  best  horticulturists 
of  Europe,  arid  with  the  heat  of  a  tropical  sun,  a  daily 
shower,  and  nearly  a  century's  well-directed  efforts, 
they  have  made  Buiteuzorg's  garden  Jirst  of  its  kind 


A  DUTCH  SANS  SOUCI  67 

in  the  world,  despite  the  rival  efforts  of  the  French  at 
Saigon,  and  of  the  British  at  Singapore,  Ceylon,  Cal- 
cutta, and  Jamaica.  The  governor-general's  palace, 
greatly  enlarged  from  the  first  villa  of  1744,  is  in  the 
midst  of  the  ninety-acre  inclosure  reached  from  the 
main  gate,  near  the  hotel  and  the  passer,  by  what  is 
undoubtedly  the  finest  avenue  of  trees  in  the  world. 
These  graceful  kanari-trees,  arching  one  hundred  feet 
overhead  in  a  great  green  cathedral  aisle,  have  tall, 
straight  trunks  covered  with  stag-horn  ferns,  bird's- 
nest  ferns,  ratans,  creeping  palms,  blooming  orchids, 
and  every  kind  of  parasite  and  air-plant  the  climate 
allows  j  and  there  is  a  fairy  lake  of  lotus  and  Victoria 
regia  beside  it,  with  pandanus  and  red-stemmed  Banka 
palms  crowded  in  a  great  sheaf  or  bouquet  on  a  tiny 
islet.  When  one  rides  through  this  green  avenue  in 
the  dewy  freshness  of  the  early  morning,  it  seems  as 
though  nature  and  the  tropics  could  do  no  more,  until 
he  has  penetrated  the  tunnels  of  waringen-trees,  the 
open  avenues  of  royal  palms,  the  great  plantation  of 
a  thousand  palms,  the  grove  of  tree-fern,  and  the  fran- 
gipani  thicket,  and  has  reached  the  knoll  commanding 
a  view  of  the  double  summit  of  Gedeh  and  Pange- 
rango,  vaporous  blue  volcanic  heights,  from  one  peak 
of  which  a  faint  streamer  of  smoke  perpetually  floats. 
There  is  a  broad  lawn  at  the  front  of  the  palace,  shaded 
with  great  waringen-,  sausage-,  and  candle-trees,  and 
trees  whose  branches  are  hidden  in  a  mantle  of  vivid- 
leafed  bougainvillea  vines,  with  deer  wandering  and 
grouping  themselves  in  as  correct  park  pictures  as  if 
under  branches  of  elm  or  oak,  or  beside  the  conven- 
tional ivied  trunks  of  the  North. 


68     JAVA:  THE  GABDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

It  is  a  tropical  experience  to  reverse  an  umbrella 
and  in  a  few  minutes  fill  it  with  golden-hearted  white 
frangipani  blossoms,  or  to  find  nutmegs  lying  as 
thick  as  acorns  on  the  ground,  and  break  their  green 
outer  shell  and  see  the  fine  coral  branches  of  mace 
enveloping  the  dark  kernel.  It  is  a  delight,  too,  to 
see  mangosteens  and  rambutans  growing,  to  find 
bread,  sausages,  and  candles  hanging  in  plenty  from 
benevolent  trees,  and  other  fruits  and  strange  flowers 
springing  from  a  tree's  trunk  instead  of  from  its 
branches.  There  are  thick  groves  and  regular  avenues 
of  the  waringen,  a  species  of  Ficus,  and  related  to  the 
banian-  and  the  rubber-tree,  a  whole  family  whose 
roots  crawl  above  the  ground,  drop  from  the  branches 
and  generally  comport  themselves  in  unconventional 
ways.  Bamboos  grow  in  clumps  and  thickets,  rang- 
ing from  the  fine,  feathery-leafed  canes,  that  are  really 
only  large  grasses,  up  to  the  noble  giants  from  Burma, 
whose  stems  are  more  nearly  trunks  easily  soaring  to  a 
hundred  feet  in  air,  and  spreading  there  a  solid  canopy 
of  graceful  foliage. 

The  creepers  run  from  tree  to  tree,  and  writhe  over 
the  ground  like  gray  serpents ;  ratans  and  climbing 
palms  one  hundred  feet  in  length  are  common,  while 
uncommon  ones  stretch  to  five  hundred  feet.  There 
is  one  creeper  with  a  blossom  like  a  magnified  white 
violet,  and  with  all  a  wood-violet's  fragrance;  but 
with  only  Dutch  and  botanical  names  on  the  labels, 
one  wanders  ignorantly  and  protestingly  in  this  para- 
dise of  strange  things.  The  rarer  orchids  are  grown 
in  matted  sheds  in  the  shade  of  tall  trees ;  and  although 
we  saw  them  at  the  end  of  the  dry  season,  and  few 


A  DUTCH  SANS  SOUCI  69 

plants  were  in  bloom,  there  was  still  an  attractive 
orchid-show. 

But  the  strangest,  most  conspicuous  bloom  in  that 
choice  corner  was  a  great  butterfly  flower  of  a  pitcher- 
plant  (a  nepenthes),  whose  pale-green  petals  were 
veined  with  velvety  maroon,  and  half  concealed  the 
pelican  pouch  of  a  pitcher  filled  with  water.  It  was 
an  evil-looking,  ill-smelling,  sticky  thing,  and  its  un- 
usual size  and  striking  colors  made  it  haunt  one  long- 
est of  all  vegetable  marvels.  There  were  other  more 
attractive  butterflies  fluttering  on  pliant  stems,  strange 
little  woolly  white  orchids,  like  edelweiss  transplanted, 
and  scores  of  delicate  Java  and  Borneo  orchids,  not  so 
well  known  as  the  Venezuelan  and  Central  American 
orchids  commonly  grown  in  American  hothouses,  and 
so  impossible  to  acclimate  in  Java. 

Lady  Baffles  died  while  Sir  Stamford  was  governor 
of  Java,  and  was  buried  in  the  section  of  the  palace 
park  that  was  afterward  (in  1817)  set  apart  as  a 
botanical  garden,  and  the  care  of  the  little  Greek 
temple  over  her  grave  near  the  kanari  avenue  was 
provided  for  in  a  special  clause  in  the  treaty  of  ces- 
sion. The  bust  of  Theismann,  who  founded  the  garden 
and  added  so  much  to  botanical  knowledge  by  his 
studies  in  Java  and  Borneo,  stands  in  an  oval  plea- 
sance  called  the  rose-garden ;  and  there  one  may  take 
heart  and  boast  of  the  temperate  zone,  since  that  rare 
exotic,  the  rose,  is  but  a  spindling  bush,  and  its  blos- 
soming less  than  scanty  at  Buitenzorg,  when  one  re- 
members California's,  and  more  especially  Tacoma's, 
perennial  prodigalities  in  showers  of  roses.  Visit- 
ing botanists  and  students  are  always  at  work  in  these 


70     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

early  hours  roaming  with  note-books  and  sketch- 
books the  avenues  of  this  famous  Hortus  Bogorieusis, 
which  provides  laboratory  and  working-space  for, 
and  invites  foreign  botanists  freely  to  avail  them- 
selves of,  this  unique  opportunity  of  study.  Over  one 
hundred  native  gardeners  tend  and  care  for  this  great 
botanic  museum  of  more  than  nine  thousand  living 
specimens,  all  working  under  the  direction  of  a  white 
head-gardener.  The  Tjiliwong  Eiver  separates  the 
botanic  garden  from  a  culture-garden  of  forty  acres, 
where  seventy  more  gardeners  look  to  the  economic 
plants— the  various  cinchonas,  sugar-canes,  rubber, 
tea,  coffee,  gums,  spices,  hemp,  and  other  growth? 
whose  introduction  to  the  colony  has  so  benefited 
the  planters.  Experiments  in  acclimatization  are  car- 
ried on  in  the  culture-garden,  and  at  the  experimental 
garden  at  Tjibodas,  high  up  on  the  slopes  of  Salak, 
where  the  governor-general  has  a  third  palace,  and 
there  is  a  government  hospital  and  sanatorium. 

Theismann's  famous  museum  of  living  twig-  and 
leaf -insects  was  abandoned  some  years  ago,  the  cura- 
tor deciding  to  keep  his  garden  strictly  to  botanical 
lines.  One  no  longer  has  the  pleasure  of  seeing  there 
those  curious  and  most  extraordinary  freaks  of  nature 
—the  fresh  green  or  dry  and  dead-looking  twigs  that 
suddenly  turn  their  heads  or  bend  their  long  angular 
legs  and  move  away;  or  leaves,  as  delusive  in  their 
way,  that  detach  themselves  from  a  tree-branch  and  fly 
away.  These  insects  bearing  so  astonishing  a  resem- 
blance to  their  environment  may  be  purchased  now 
and  then  from  Chinese  gardeners;  but  otherwise,  if 
one  asks  where  they  can  be  found  or  seen,  there  comes 


A  DUTCH  SANS  SOUCI  71 

the  usual  answer,  "  In  Borneo  or  Celebes,"— always  on 
the  farther,  remoter  islands, — tropic  wonders  taking 
wing  like  the  leaf-insects  when  one  reaches  their  re- 
puted haunts. 

All  Java  is  in  a  way  as  finished  as  little  Holland 
itself,  the  whole  island  cultivated  from  edge  to  edge 
like  a  tulip-garden,  and  connected  throughout  its 
length  with  post-roads  smooth  and  perfect  as  park 
drives,  all  arched  with  waringen-,  kanari-,  tamarind-, 
or  teak-trees.  The  rank  and  tangled  jungle  is  invisi- 
ble, save  by  long  journeys;  and  great  snakes,  wild 
tigers,  and  rhinoceroses  are  almost  unknown  now. 
One  must  go  to  Borneo  and  the  farther  islands  to 
see  them,  too.  All  the  valleys,  plains,  and  hillsides 
are  planted  in  formal  rows,  hedged,  terraced,  banked, 
drained,  and  carefully  weeded  as  a  flower-bed.  The 
drives  are  of  endless  beauty,  whichever  way  one  turns 
from  Buitenzorg,  and  we  made  triumphal  progresses 
through  the  kanari-  and  waringen-lined  streets  in  an 
enormous  "  milord."  The  equipage  measured  all  of 
twenty  feet  from  the  tip  of  the  pole  to  the  footman's 
perch  behind,  and  with  a  cracking  whip  and  at  a  rat- 
tling gait  we  dashed  through  shady  roads,  past  Dutch 
barracks  and  hospitals,  over  picturesque  bridges,  and 
through  villages  where  the  native  children  jumped 
and  clapped  their  hands  with  glee  as  the  great  Jug- 
gernaut vehicle  rolled  by.  We  visited  the  grave  of 
Raden  Saleh,  a  lonely  little  pavilion  or  temple  in  a 
tangle  of  shrubbery  that  was  once  a  lovely  garden 
shaded  by  tall  cocoa-palms;  and  we  drove  to  Batoe 
Toelis,  "the  place  of  the  written  stone,"  and  in  the 
little  thatched  basket  of  a  temple  saw  the  sacred 


72     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

stone  inscribed  in  ancient  Kawi  characters,  the  orig- 
inal classic  language  of  the  Javanese.  In  another 
basket  shrine  were  shown  the  veritable  footprints  of 
Buddha,  with  no  explanation  as  to  how  and  when  he 
rested  on  the  island,  nor  yet  how  he  happened  to  have 
such  long,  distinctively  Malay  toes.  Near  these 
temples  is  the  villa  where  the  poor  African  prince  of 
Ashantee  was  so  long  detained  in  exile— an  African 
chief  whose  European  education  had  turned  his  mind 
to  geology  and  natural  sciences,  and  who  led  the  life 
of  a  quiet  student  here  in  the  midst  of  so  much 
beauty,  Buitenzorg  the  paradise  for  prince  or  exile, 
student  or  literary  man,  delver  or  dreamer  of  any  race. 
There  is  a  magnificent  view  from  the  Ashantee  villa 
out  over  a  great  green  plain  and  a  valley  of  palms  to 
the  peaks  of  Gedeh  and  Pangera-ngo,  and  to  their 
volcanic  neighbor,  Salak,  silent  for  two  hundred  years. 
Peasants,  trooping  along  the  valley  roads  far  below, 
made  use  of  a  picturesque  bamboo  bridge  that  is  ac- 
counted one  of  the  famous  sights  of  the  neighborhood, 
and  seemed  but  processions  of  ants  crossing  a  spider's 
web.  All  the  suburban  roads  are  so  many  botanical 
exhibitions  approaching  that  in  the  great  garden,  and 
one's  interest  is  claimed  at  every  yard  and  turn. 

It  takes  a  little  time  for  the  temperate  mind  to  ac- 
cept the  palm-tree  as  a  common,  natural,  and  inevita- 
ble object  in  every  outlook  and  landscape ;  to  realize 
that  the  joyous,  living  thing  with  restless,  perpetually 
threshing  foliage  is  the  same  correct,  symmetrical, 
motionless  feather-duster  on  end  that  one  knows  in 
the  still  life  of  hothouses  and  drawing-rooms  at  home ; 
to  realize  that  it  grows  in  the  ground,  and  not  in 


A  DUTCH  SANS  SOUCI  76 

a  pot  or  tub  to  be  brought  indoors  for  the  winter 
season.  The  arches  of  gigantic  kanari-trees  growing 
over  by-lanes  and  village  paths,  although  intended  for 
triumphal  avenues  and  palace  driveways,  overpower 
one  with  the  mad  extravagance,  the  reckless  waste, 
and  the  splendid  luxury  of  nature.  One  cannot  accept 
these  things  at  first  as  utilities,  just  as  it  shocks  one 
to  have  a  servant  black  his  shoes  with  bruised  hibiscus 
flowers  or  mangosteen  rind,  or  remove  rust  from 
kris-  or  knife-blades  with  pineapple-juice,  thrusting 
a  blade  through  and  through  the  body  of  the  pine. 
The  poorest  may  have  his  hedge  of  lantana,  which, 
brought  from  the  Mauritius  by  Lady  Raffles,  now 
borders  roads,  gardens,  and  the  railway-tracks  from 
end  to  end  of  the  island.  The  humblest  dooryard 
may  be  gay  with  tall  poinsettia-trees,  and  bougain- 
villeas  may  pour  a  torrent  of  magenta  leaves  from 
every  tree,  wall,  or  roof.  The  houses  of  the  great 
planters  around  Buitenzorg  are  ideal  homes  in  the 
tropics,  and  the  Tjomson  and  other  large  tea  and 
coffee  estates  are  like  parks.  The  drives  through 
their  grounds  show  one  the  most  perfect  lawns  and 
flower-beds  and  ornamental  trees,  vines,  and  palms, 
and  such  ranks  on  ranks  of  thriving  tea-bushes  and 
coffee-bushes,  every  leaf  perfect  and  without  flaw, 
every  plant  in  even  line,  and  the  warm  red  earth  lying 
loosely  on  their  roots,  that  one  feels  as  if  in  some  or- 
namental jardin  d'acclimatation  rather  than  among  the 
most  staple  and  serious  crops  of  commerce.  Yet  from 
end  to  end  of  the  island  the  cultivation  is  as  intense 
and  careful,  entitling  Java  to  its  distinction  as  "  the 
finest  tropical  island  in  the  world."  It  is  the  gem  of 


76     JAVA :  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  Indies,  the  one  splendid  jewel  in  the  Netherlands 
crown,  and  a  possession  to  which  poor  Cuba,  although 
corresponding  exactly  to  it  geographically  and  politi- 
cally, has  been  vainly  compared. 

There  were  often  interesting  table  d'hote  companies 
gathered  at  noon  and  at  night  in  the  long  dining- 
room  of  the  Buitenzorg  hotel.  While  many  of  the 
Dutch  officials  and  planters,  and  their  wives,  main- 
tained the  wooden  reserve  and  supercilious  air  of  those 
uncertain  folk  of  the  half-way  strata  in  society  every- 
where, there  were  others  whose  intelligence  and  cour- 
tesy and  friendly  interest  remain  as  green  spots  in  the 
land.  There  was  one  most  amiable  man,  who,  we 
thought,  in  his  love  of  country,  was  anxious  to  hear 
us  praise  it.  We  extolled  the  cool  breezes  and  the 
charming  day,  and  said :  "  You  have  a  beautiful  coun- 
try here." 

"  This  is  not  my  country,"  he  answered. 

"  But  are  you  not  Dutch  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes." 

"  Then  Java  is  yours.  It  is  the  Netherlands  even 
if  it  is  India." 

"  Yes ;  but  I  am  from  East  Java,  near  Malang  " — a 
section  all  of  three  hundred  miles  away,  off  at  the 
other  end  of  the  island ;  but  a  strong  distinction— an 
extreme  aloofness  or  estrangement — exists  between 
residents  of  East,  West,  and  Middle  Java,  and  between 
those  of  this  island  and  of  the  near-by  Sumatra, 
Celebes,  and  Molucca,  all  Indonesians  as  they  are, 
under  the  rule  of  the  one  governor-general  of  Nether- 
lands India,  representing  the  little  queen  at  The  Hague. 

Often  when  we  spoke  of  "India"  or  "southern 


A  DUTCH  SANS  SOUCI  77 

India,"  or  referred  to  Delhi  and  Bombay  as  "  cities  of 
India,"  the  Hollanders  looked  puzzled. 

"  Ah,  when  you  say  '  India/  you  mean  Hindustan 
or  British  India  f " 

"  Certainly ;  that  is  India,  the  continent— the  greater 
India." 

"  But  what,  then,  do  you  call  this  island  and  all  the 
possessions  of  the  Netherlands  out  here  ? " 

"  Why,  we  speak  of  this  island  as  Java.  Every  one 
knows  of  it,  and  of  Sumatra  and  Borneo,  by  their  own 
names."' 

The  defender  of  Netherlands  India  said  nothing; 
but  soon  a  reference  was  made  to  a  guest  who  had 
been  in  official  residence  at  Amboyna. 

"  Where  ? "  we  inquired  with  keen  interest  in  the 
unknown. 

"  Amboyna.  Do  you  in  America  not  know  of  Am- 
boyna ? "  . 

Average  Americans  must  confess  if,  since  early  geog- 
raphy days,  they  have  not  remembered  carefully  that 
one  tiny  island  in  the  group  of  Moluccas  off  the  east 
end  of  Java— an  island  so  tiny  that  even  on  the  school 
atlases  used  in  Buitenzorg  it  is  figured  the  size  of  a 
pea,  and  on  the  maps  for  the  rest  of  the  world  is  but 
a  nameless  dot  in  the  clustered  dots  of  the  group  that 
would  better  be  named  the  Nutmeg  Isles,  since  the 
bulk  of  the  world's  supply  of  that  spicy  fruit  comes 
from  their  shores. 

Then,  away  down  there,  out  of  the  world,  I  was 
taken  to  task  for  that  chief  sin  and  offending  of  my 
country  against  other  countries— the  McKinley  Bill  of 
so  long  ago. 


78     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

"  Why,  we  could  n't  make  any  money  out  of  tobacco 
while  such  a  law  was  in  existence,"  said  one  Sumatra 
planter. 

"  But  we  are  concerned  with  the  prosperity  of  our 
own  American  tobacco-growers.  It  is  for  the  Dutch 
government  to  make  laws  to  benefit  the  tobacco- 
planters  of  Sumatra." 

"  Ah !  but  you  have  new  and  better  laws  now  since 
that  last  revolution  in  the  States,  and  we  are  all  plant- 
ing all  the  tobacco  we  can.  We  shall  be  very  pros- 
perous now." 


vn 

IN  A  TROPICAL  GARDEN 

JHE  Buitenzorg  passer  proper  is  housed 
in  a  long,  tiled  pavilion  facing  an  open 
common,  on  which  the  country  folk 
gather  with  their  produce  twice  a  week, 
and,  overflowing,  stretch  in  a  scattering 
encampment  down  the  broad  street  leading  from  the 
gate  of  the  Botanical  Garden.  The  permanent  passer, 
or  regular  bazaar  in  the  covered  building,  is  stocked 
with  the  staples  and  substantiate  of  life,  and  is  open 
every  day.  The  town  tailors  have  their  abode  under 
that  cover,  and  squat  in  rows  before  their  little  Amer- 
ican hand-sewing  machines,  and  sew  the  single  seam 
of  a  sarong  skirt,  or  reel  off  a  native  jacket,  while  the 
customer  waits.  It  is  the  semi- weekly,  early  morning, 
outdoor  market  of  chattering  country  folk  that  most 
delights  and  diverts  a  stranger,  however.  The  lines 
of  venders,  strung  along  the  shady  street  and  grouped 
under  palm-patched  umbrellas  in  the  open,  provide 
horticultural  and  floral  exhibits  of  the  greatest  inter- 
est, and  afford  the  most  picturesque  scenes  of  native 
life.  The  long  street  of  the  Tjina  kampong  beyond  is 
s  79 


80     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

dull  and  monotonous  by  comparison,  for  when  Dutch 
rules  force  the  Chinese  to  be  clean  and  orderly  all 
picturesqueness  and  character  are  gone  from  their 
quarter.  All  the  tasseled  lanterns  and  strips  of  ver- 
milion paper  will  not  "  tell "  artistically  without  their 
concomitant  grease  and  dirt. 

As  a  very  new  broom,  a  clever  child  pleased  with 
the  toy  of  a  new  employer,  Amat,  our  mild-mannered 
Moslem  servant,  was  a  treasure  and  delight  during 
those  first  days  at  Buitenzorg.  He  entered  gleefully 
into  the  spirit  of  our  reckless  purchase  from  the  heaps 
of  splendid  fruits  poured  from  the  great  horn  of 
plenty  into  the  open  passer.  He  gave  us  the  name  of 
each  particular  strange  fruit,  taught  us  the  odd  tricks 
and  sleight-of-hand  methods  of  opening  these  novel- 
ties of  the  market-place ;  and  it  was  quite  like  kinder- 
garten play  when  he  unbraided  and  wove  together 
again  the  ribbed  palm-leaf  reticules  in  which  dukus 
and  such  small  fruits  are  sold.  We  carried  baskets 
of  strange  fruits  back  to  the  hotel,  and  Amat  added 
every  vegetable  curio  and  market's  marvel  he  could 
find  to  the  heaps  of  fruits  and  flowers.  Our  veranda 
was  a  testing-  and  proving-ground,  and  there  seemed 
to  be  no  end  to  the  delights  and  surprises  the  tropics 
provided. 

Tons  of  bananas  were  heaped  high  in  the  passer 
each  day,  the  great  golden  bunches  making  most 
decorative  and  attractive  masses  of  color,  and  their 
absurd  cheapness  tempting  one  to  buy  and  to  buy. 
The  Java  pisang,  or  banana,  however,  is  but  a  coarse 
plantain  with  a  pinkish-yellow,  dry  pulp,  of  a  pump- 
kiny  flavor  that  sadly  disappoints  the  palate.  Yet  it 


TROPICAL  FRUITS. 


83 

is  nature's  greatest  and  most  generously  bestowed 
gift  in  the  tropics,  and  it  was  pleasant  to  eat  it  picked 
ripe  in  its  native  home,  instead  of  receiving  it  steam- 
ripened  from  Northern  fruiterers'  warehouses.  Every 
tiny  village  and  almost  every  little  native  hut  in  Java 
has  its  banana-patch  or  its  banana-tree,  which  requires 
nothing  of  labor  in  cultivation,  save  the  weeding  away 
of  the  old  stalks.  It  was  intended  as  a  humane  con- 
centration of  benefits  when  nature  gave  man  this 
food-plant,  four  thousand  pounds  of  whose  fruit  will 
grow  with  so  little  human  aid  in  the  same  space  of 
ground  required  to  raise  ninety-nine  pounds  of  pota- 
toes or  thirty-three  pounds  of  wheat;  both  those 
Northern  crops  acquired,  too,  only  by  incessant  sweat 
of  the  brow  and  muscular  exertion.  The  pisang  is 
the  tropical  staff  of  life  for  whites  as  well  as  natives, 
as  wholesome  and  necessary  as  bread,  and  an  equiva- 
lent for  the  latter  as  a  starchy  food.  It  comes  to  one 
with  the  earliest  breakfast  cup,  appears  at  every  meal, 
arrives  with  the  afternoon  tea-tray,  and  always  ends 
the  late  dinner  as  the  inevitable  accompaniment  of 
cheese,  the  happiest  substitute  for  bread  or  biscuits, 
tropical  gourmets  insist. 

The  lovely  red  rambutans  (Nephelium  lappaceum) 
we  would  have  bought  for  their  beauty  alone— those 
clusters  of  seemingly  green  chestnut-burs,  with  spines 
tinted  to  the  deepest  rose,  affording  the  most  exqui- 
site color-study  of  all  the  fruits  in  the  passer.  The 
spiny  shell  pulls  apart  easily,  and  discloses  a  juicy, 
half-transparent  mass  of  white  pulp  around  a  central 
core  of  smooth  stones.  The  duku,  looking  like  a  big 
green  grape,  a  fresh  almond,  or  an  olive,  contains  just 


84     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

such  another  ball  of  pulp  within  its  leathery  rind,  and 
both  fruits  much  resemble  the  fresh  lychees  of  China 
in  flavor.  The  salak,  or  "  forbidden  fruit,"  is  a  hard, 
scaly,  pear-shaped  thing,  which  very  appropriately 
grows  on  a  prickly  bush,  and  whose  strange  brown 
rind  reminds  one  of  a  pine-cone  or  a  rattlesnake's 
skin.  This  scaly,  snaky  shell  prejudices  one  against 
it ;  but  the  salak  is  as  solid  as  an  apple,  with  a  nutty 
flavor  and  texture.  It  is  not  unpleasant,  nor  is  it  dis- 
tinctively anything  in  flavor— nothing  unique  or  de- 
licioiis  enough  to  make  one  seek  hard  or  long  for  a 
second  taste  of  it.  The  jamboa,  the  eugenia  or  rose- 
apple  (Eugenia  malaccensis),  is  a  fruit  of  the  same  size 
and  shape  as  the  salak,  and  in  spite  of  its  exquisite 
coloring  it  impresses  one  as  being  an  albino,  a  skin- 
less or  some  other  monstrous  and  unnatural  product 
of  nature.  Its  outer  integument,  thinner  than  any 
nectarine's  rind,  shades  from  snow-white  at  the  stem 
to  the  deepest  rose-pink  at  the  blossom  end,  and  it 
looks  as  if  it  were  the  most  fragrant,  delicious,  and 
juicy  fruit.  One  bites  into  the  fine,  crisp,  succulent 
pulp,  and  tastes  exactly  nothing,  and  never  forgives 
the  beautiful,  rose-tinted,  watery  blank  for  its  delud- 
ing. The  caranibola  (Averrlioa),  the  five-ribbed  yellow 
"  star-fruit,"  popularly  known  in  real  Cathay  as  the 
"  Chinese  gooseberry,"  is  a  favorite,  fragrant  study  in 
spherical  geometry,  and  the  cutting  apart  of  its  trian- 
gular sections  is  the  nicest  sort  of  after-dinner  amuse- 
ment and  demonstration ;  but  its  fine,  deliciously  acid 
pulp  is  usually  known  to  one  before  he  reaches  Java. 
Its  relative,  the  Ulimbi,  is  the  sharpest  of  acid  fruits,  and 
lends  an  edge  to  chutneys  and  curried  conglomerates. 


IN  A  TROPICAL  GARDEN  85 

The  breadfruit  and  its  gigantic  relative,  the  nanko 
(Artocarpus  integrifolia),  or  jackfruit,  which  often 
weighs  thirty  and  even  forty  pounds,  and  is  sufficient 
load  for  a  man  to  bring  to  market  on  his  back,  are 
the  vegetable  mainstays  of  native  life ;  but  as  both 
must  be  cooked  to  a  tasteless  mush  to  be  relished,  one 
is  satisfied  only  to  look  at  them  in  the  passer.  That 
swollen  monstrosity,  the  nanko,  grows  goiter-like  on 
the  trunk  of  a  tree,  and  is  supported  in  ratan  slings 
while  the  great  excrescence  ripens.  One  must  speak 
of  the  breadfruit  with  respect,  though,  after  all 
that  scientists  have  said,  philosophers  and  political 
economists  have  argued,  concerning  it.  Since  ten 
breadfruit-trees  will  support  a  large  family  the  year 
round,  and  a  man  may  plant  that  many  within  an  hour 
and  need  give  them  no  further  care,  Captain  Cook 
observed  that  such  a  man  has  then  "as  completely 
fulfilled  his  duty  to  his  own  and  future  generations  as 
the  native  of  our  less  genial  climate  by  plowing  in 
the  cold  of  winter  and  reaping  in  the  summer  heat  as 
often  as  the  seasons  return." 

The  prickly  durian  (Durio  Zibethimis),  which  is 
almost  as  large  as  the  nanko,  has  a  pulp  a  little  like 
that  of  a  cantaloup  melon,  only  smoother  and  more 
solid— a  thick,  creamy,  "  almondy-buttery "  custard, 
which  is  agreeable  to  the  palate,  but  offends  the  nose 
with  an  odor  of  onion  and  stale  egg.  It  is  spoken  of 
with  bitterness  and  contempt  by  most  Europeans,  is 
extolled  as  "  the  king  and  emperor  of  fruits  "  by  Wal- 
lace and  a  few  other  intrepid  ones,  and  the  little 
English  children  in  Java,  who  all  are  fond  of  it,  call 
it  "darling  durian."  In  1599  Linschott  declared  it 


86     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

to  surpass  in  flavor  "  all  the  other  fruits  of  the  world." 
Crawford  said  that  it  tasted  like  "fresh  cream  and 
filberts,"  a  description  which  conjures  up  the  cloying 
modern  fantasia  of  English- walnut  kernels  in  a  may- 
onnaise. Another  great  one  has  said  that  "to  eat 
durians  is  a  new  sensation  worth  a  voyage  to  the  East 
to  experience";  and  Dr.  Ward,  in  his  "Medical  To- 
pography of  the  Straits,"  says :  "  Those  who  overcome 
the  prejudice  excited  by  the  disagreeable,  fetid  odor 
of  the  external  shell  reckon  it  delicious.  From  ex- 
perience I  can  pronounce  it  the  most  luscious  and  the 
most  fascinating  fruit  in  the  universe ;  the  pulp  cover- 
ing the  seeds,  the  only  part  eaten,  excels  the  finest 
custards  which  could  be  prepared  by  either  Ude  or 
Kitchener."  One  sees  the  monster  retailed  in  seg- 
ments in  every  passer ;  the  natives  are  always  munch- 
ing it  inconveniently  to  windward  of  one,  and  they 
not  only  praise  it,  but  write  poems  to  it,  and  respect- 
fully salute  the  tree  they  see  it  growing  on.  This 
fruit  of  discordant  opinions  hangs  high  upon  a  tall 
tree,  and  is  never  picked,  but  allowed  to  fall  to  the 
ground  when  it  becomes  perfectly  ripe.  A  falling 
durian  is  justly  dreaded  and  guarded  against  by  the 
natives,  who  tell  of  men  whose  shoulders  have  been 
lacerated  and  heads  half  crushed  by  the  sudden  de 
scent  of  one  of  these  great  green  cannon-balls.  Its 
unpleasant  odor  is  said  to  come  with  age,  and  they 
tell  one  that  a  freshly  fallen  duriau  is  free  from  such 
objection ;  but  the  watched  durian  never  falls,  I  found, 
after  maintaining  the  attitude  of  the  fox  toward  the 
grapes  for  a  reasonable  time  before  a  durian-tree. 
The  papaya,  a  smaller  custard-fruit,  with  unpleasant 


IN  A  TROPICAL  GAKDEN  87 

little  curly  gray  seeds  in  the  mess,  is  like  a  coarse, 
flavorless  melon,  but  is  highly  extolled  as  a  febrifuge 
and  tonic.  The  much-heralded  and  disappointing 
cherimoyer  is  grown  too,  and  mangos  ripen  in  every 
yard ;  but  the  Java  mangos  are  coarse  and  turpentiny, 
of  a  deep  pumpkiny  hue.  Pineapples,  the  nanas,  or 
Portuguese  ananassa,  grow  to  perfection  all  over  the 
low,  hot  country ;  but  one  is  warned  to  be  careful  in 
eating  them,  and  they  are  called  the  most  dangerous, 
the  most  choleraic  and  fever-causing  of  tropical  fruits. 
The  native  orange  on  this  south  side  of  the  equator  is 
not  orange  at  all,  even  when  ripe,  but  its  peel  is  a 
deep,  dark,  beautiful  green,  and  its  flavor  unequaled. 
The  big  Citrus  decumana,  the  pomelo  of  China,  the 
pumplemoos  of  Java,  the  Batavian  lime  in  British 
India,  the  shaddock  of  the  West  Indies,  and  the  grape- 
fruit of  Florida,  appears  in  the  passers,  but  is  coarse, 
dry,  and  tasteless,  save  for  the  turpentine  flavor, 
which  does  not  lurk  within,  but  stalks  abroad. 

The  fruit  of  fruits,  the  prize  of  the  Indies  and  of  all  the 
Malay  equatorial  regions,  where  the  tree  is  indigenous, 
is  the  mangosteen  (Gardnia  mangosteen),  and  the  tour- 
ist should  avail  himself  of  November  and  December  as 
the  months  for  a  tour  in  Java,  if  only  to  know  the  man- 
gosteen in  its  perfection.  The  dark-purple  apples  hang 
from  the  tall  trees  by  woody  stems,  and  the  natives 
bring  the  manggis  to  market  tied  together  in  bunches 
of  twenties  like  clusters  of  gigantic  grapes.  It  is  de- 
light enough  to  the  eye  alone  to  cut  the  thick,  fibrous 
rind,  bisect  the  perfect  sphere  at  the  equator  line,  and 
see  the  round  ball  of  "  perfumed  snow  "  resting  intact 
in  its  rose-lined  cup.  The  five  white  segments  sepa- 


88     JAVA:  THE  GAEDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

rate  easily,  and  may  be  lifted  whole  with  a  fork,  and 
they  melt  on  the  tongue  with  a  touch  of  tart  and  a 
touch  of  sweet ;  one  moment  a  memory  of  the  juiciest, 
most  fragrant  apple,  at  another  a  remembrance  of  the 
smoothest  cream  ice,  the  most  exquisite  and  delicately 
flavored  fruit-acid  known— all  the  delights  of  nature's 
laboratory  condensed  in  that  ball  of  neige  parfum&e. 
It  is  fortunate  that  the  mangosteen  is  a  harmless  and 
wholesome  fruit,  and  that  one  may  eat  with  impunity, 
laying  store  for  a  lifetime  in  his  one  opportunity.  I 
often  wondered  how  it  would  be  if  the  mangosteen 
were  a  dangerous  or  a  forbidden  fruit;  if  it  were 
wicked  or  a  little  of  a  sin  to  eat  it ;  if  mangosteens 
could  be  obtained  singly,  at  great  risk  or  expense ;  or 
if  they  should  be  prescribed  for  one  as  a  tonic,  some- 
thing antimalarial,  a,  substitute  for  quinine,  to  be 
taken  in  doses  of  one,  two,  or  ten  before  or  after  each 
meal.  The  mangosteen  cannot  be  transported  to  the 
temperate  zone  of  Europe,— not  even  with  the  aid  of 
modern  ships'  ref  rigerating-machines  and  when  coated 
with  wax,— as  in  less  than  a  week  after  leaving  the 
trees  the  pulp  melts  away  to  a  brown  mass.  By  the 
alternation  of  seasons  the  mangosteen  is  always  in 
market  at  Singapore,  as  it  ripens  north  of  the  equator 
during  the  summer  six  months  of  the  northern  hemi- 
sphere's year,  and  during  this  rainy  season  of  Cochin 
China  is  carried  from  Saigon  successfully  as  far  north 
as  Shanghai  and  Yokohama.  The  offer  by  the  lead- 
ing British  steamship  company  of  thirty  pounds 
sterling  to  the  ship-captain  who  will  get  a  basket 
of  mangosteens  to  the  Queen  is  still  open.  The 
tree  grows  throughout  the  Malay  Peninsula  and 


TROPICAL  FKUITS. 


IN  A  TEOPICAL  GAEDEN  91 

Archipelago,  and  groves  have  been  successfully  planted 
in  Ceylon,  so  that  there  is  hope  that  this  incomparable 
fruit  may  finally  be  acclimated  in  the  West  Indies,  and 
fast  steamers  make  it  known  in  New  York  and  London. 
The  mangosteen  is  tinned  for  export  at  Singapore ;  but 
the  faded  segments  floating  in  tasteless  syrup  give  one 
little  idea  of  this  peerless  fruit  in  its  natural  state. 

It  had  been  my  particular  haunting  dream  of  the 
tropics  to  have  a  small  black  boy  climb  a  tree  and 
throw  cocoanuts  down  to  me ;  and  while  we  sat  admir- 
ing the  rank  beauty  of  the  deserted  garden  around 
Baden  Saleh's  tomb,  one  afternoon,  the  expression  of 
the  wish  caused  a  full-grown  Malay  to  saunter  across 
the  grass,  and,  cigarette  in  mouth,  walk  up  the  straight 
palm-stem  as  easily  as  a  fly.  The  Malay  toes  are  as 
distinct  members  as  the  fingers,  and  almost  as  long ; 
and  clasping  the  trunk  with  the  sole  of  the  foot  at 
each  leaf-scar,  that  Malay  climber  gripped  the  rough 
palm-stem  as  firmly  with  his  toes  as  with  claws  or 
extra  fingers.  It  was  so  easily  and  commonly  done 
that  palm-tree  climbing  soon  ceased  to  be  any  more  of 
a  feat  to  watch  than  berry-picking ;  but  the  first  native 
who  walked  up  a  palm-tree  for  my  benefit  held  me 
rapt,  attentive,  while  he  picked  the  big  nuts  and  sent 
twenty-pounders  crashing  down  through  the  shrub- 
bery. We  paid  him  well,  and  carried  two  of  the  nuts 
home  with  us ;  and  from  them  the  servant  brought  us 
tall  glasses,  or  schooners,  filled  with  the  clear,  color- 
less, tasteless  milk,  and  a  plate  full  of  a  white,  leathery 
stuff —tough,  tasteless  too,  and  wilted,  like  cold  omelet 
without  eggs— the  saddest  sort  of  a  feast  of  fresh 
cocoanuts. 


92     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

We  found  all  the  countless  common  fragrant  flowers 
that  are  so  necessary  to  these  esthetic,  perfume-loving 
people  heaped  for  sale  in  the  flower-market  of  the 
passer,  along  with  the  oils  and  the  gums  and  spices 
that  give  out,  and  burn  with,  such  delicious  odors. 
Short-stemmed  roses  and  heaps  of  loose  rose-petals 
were  laid  on  beds  of  green  moss  or  in  bits  of  palm- 
leaf  in  a  way  to  delight  one's  color-sense,  and,  with 
the  mounds  of  pale-green  petals  of  the  Jcananga,  or 
ylang-ylang-tree's  blossoms,  filled  the  whole  air  with 
fragrance.  We  dried  quantities  of  kananga  flowers 
for  sachets,  as  they  will  crisp  even  in  the  damp  air  of 
Java,  and  retain  their  spicy  fragrance  for  years ;  but 
the  exquisite  white-and-gold  "  Bo-flowers,"  the  sacred 
sumboja  or  f  rangipani  (the  Plumeria  acutifolia  of  the  bot- 
anists), would  not  dry,  but  turned  dark  and  mildewed 
wherever  one  petal  fell  upon  another.  This  lovely 
blossom  of  Buddha  is  sticky  and  unpleasant  to  the 
touch  when  pulled  from  the  tree,  and  the  stem  exudes 
a  thick  milk.  After  they  have  fallen  to  the  ground 
they  may  be  handled  more  easily,  and  fallen  flowers 
retain  the  spotless,  waxen  perfection  of  their  thick, 
fleshy  petals  for  even  two  days.  One  wonders  that 
the  people  do  not  more  often  wear  these  flowers  of  the 
golden  heart  in  their  black  hair ;  but  the  sumboja  is 
a  religious  flower  in  Java,  as  in  India,  and  in  Bud- 
dhist times  was  almost  as  much  an  attribute  and  sym- 
bol of  that  great  faith  as  the  lotus.  This  Bo-flower 
is  still  the  favorite  offering,  together  with  the  cham- 
paka,  or  Arabian  jasmine,  in  the  Buddhist  temples  of 
Burma  and  Ceylon,  and  is  often  laid  before  the  few 
images  of  that  old  religion  now  remaining  in  Java. 


IN  A  TROPICAL  GARDEN  93 

All  through  the  Malay  world,  however,  it  is  especially 
the  flower  of  the  dead,  associated  everywhere  with 
funeral  rites  and  graves,  as  conventional  an  expression 
or  accompaniment  of  grief,  death,  and  burial  as  the 
cypress  and  the  weeping  willow.  For  this  reason  one 
rarely  sees  it  used  as  an  ornamental  tree  or  hedge, 
even  in  a  European's  garden  or  pleasure-grounds,  and 
its  presence  in  hedges  or  copses  indicates  that  there 
are  graves,  or  one  of  Islam's  little  open-timbered  tem- 
ples of  the  dead,  within  reach  of  its  entrancing  fra- 
grance. Our  Malay  servant  would  never  accept  our 
name  of  "  frangipani "  when  told  to  spread  out  or  stir 
the  petals  we  tried  to  dry  in  the  sun.  He  stoically 
repeated  the  native  "sumboja"  after  me  each  time, 
very  rightly  resenting  the  baptism  in  honor  of  an 
Italian  marquis,  who  only  compounded  an  essence 
imitating  the  perfume  of  the  West  Indian  red  jasmine, 
which  breathes  a  little  of  the  cloying  sweetness  of  the 
peerless  sumboja.  After  but  a  few  trials  of  its  sylla- 
bles, "sumboja"  soon  expressed  to  me  more  of  the 
fragrance,  the  sentiment  and  spirit,  of  the  lovely 
death-flower  than  ever  could  the  word  "  frangipani." 
Chinese  Buddhists  seem  not  to  have  any  traditions  or 
associations  with  the  Bo-flower,  as  in  South  China, 
where  the  tree  is  grown  in  gardens,  it  is  only  the  Mi 
tan  fa,  or  "  egg-flower,"  those  hideously  matter-of-fact 
people  noting  only  the  resemblance  of  the  lovely 
petals  to  the  contrasting  yolk  and  albumen  of  a  hard- 
boiled  egg. 


VIII 

THE   "CULTURE   SYSTEM" 

HILE  the  Dutch  East  India  Company 
held  the  monopoly  of  trade  and  produc- 
tion in  Java,  farmed  out  the  revenues, 
and  exacted  forced  labor  and  forced  de- 
1  livery  of  produce,  this  tropical  possession 
yielded  an  enormous  revenue.  With  the  company's 
monopoly  of  trade  with  Japan,  and  only  Portugal  as 
Holland's  great  rival  in  the  ports  of  China,  the  com- 
pany made  Amsterdam  the  tea-  and  spice-market  and 
the  center  of  Oriental  trade  in  Europe.  The  early  Dutch 
traders  not  only  cut  down  all  the  spice-trees  on  the 
Molucca  Islands,  and  forbade  the  planting  of  clove-, 
cinnamon-,  and  nutmeg-trees,  save  on  certain  Dutch 
islands,  but  they  burned  tons  of  spices  in  the  streets 
of  Amsterdam,  in  order  to  maintain  prices  in  Europe 
and  realize  their  usual  profit  of  three  hundred  per 
cent. 

The  Dutch  East  India  Company  acquired  control  of 
Java  through  pioneer  preemption,  purchase,  conquest, 
strategy,  and  subtle  diplomacy,  and,  finally,  as  resid- 
uary legatee  by  the  will  of  the  Mohammedan  emperor 

94 


THE   "CULTURE  SYSTEM"  95 

at  Solo.  The  company  then  claimed  the  same  sover- 
eign rights  over  the  people  as  the  native  rulers,  who 
had  exacted  one  fifth  of  the  peasant's  labor  and  one 
fifth  of  his  crops  as  ground-rent,  the  land  being  all 
the  inalienable  property  of  the  princes.  When  the 
colony  passed  from  the  company  to  the  crown  of 
Holland,  Marshal  Daendels  at  once  turned  such  feudal 
rights  to  profitable  account  and  instituted  public 
works  on  a  great  scale.  With  such  forced  labor  he 
built  the  great  double  post-road  over  the  island  from 
Anjer  Head  to  Ban joewangi,— that  road  upon  whose 
building  twenty  thousand  miserable  lives  were  ex- 
pended,—so  that  difficulty  of  communication  no  longer 
interfered  with  the  delivery  of  products  at  government 
warehouses  on  the  seashore.  He  further  established 
government  teak-  and  coffee-plantations,  but  the  natives 
who  were  forced  to  cultivate  them  were  no  more  tyran- 
nized over  nor  oppressed  than  they  had  been  under 
their  own  princes,  the  change  of  masters  making  small 
difference  in  their  condition.  Previous  to  Daendels's 
time  all  the  coffee  came  from  the  Preangers,  whose 
princes,  having  yielded  their  territories  by  treaty  in 
the  middle  of  the  last  century,  retained  sovereignty 
and  their  old  land-revenues  on  condition  of  paying 
the  Dutch  East  India  Company  an  annual  tribute  in 
coffee,  and  after  that  selling  the  balance  of  the  crop  to 
the  company  at  the  fixed  rate  of  three  and  a  half 
florins  the  picul  (133J  pounds). 

Although  the  East  India  Company  practically  ended 
its  rule  in  1798,  the  States-General  canceled  the  lease 
in  1800,  and  the  colony  passed  to  the  crown  of  Holland, 
the  same  trade  monopoly  continued  until  the  happy 


96     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

interval  of  British  rule  (1811-10),  and  there  was  a 
continual  movement  of  natives  from  the  Dutch  to  the 
native  states  up  to  1811.  Under  Sir  Stamford  Raffles's 
enlightened  control  the  Java  ports  were  made  free  to 
the  ships  of  all  nations,  the  peasants  were  given  indi- 
vidual ownership  of  lands,  great  estates  were  bestowed 
upon  native  chiefs,  and  a  bewildering  doctrine  of 
liberty  and  equality  before  the  law  was  preached  to 
the  people.  Free  trade,  free  culture,  and  free  labor 
were  decreed  at  once.  The  same  treaty  of  London 
(August,  1814)  which  restored  Java  to  the  Dutch 
(August,  1816),  at  the  close  of  the  Napoleonic  wars, 
secured  the  freedom  of  the  ports;  but  the  Dutch 
quickly  resumed  the  old  system  of  land-tenure  by  vil- 
lage communities  paying  ground-rent  in  produce  and 
labor  through  their  wedana,  or  head  man,  who  answered 
to  a  district  chief,  who  in  turn  reported  to  the  native 
prince  acting  as  regent  for  the  Dutch  government. 
Dutch  residents  "  advised "  these  native  regents,  who 
ruled  wholly  under  their  orders  and  were  mere  mid- 
dlemen between  the  Dutch  and  the  natives.  These  re- 
gents were  always  chosen  from  the  greatest  family  of 
the  province,  and  the  Dutch  controleurs  directed  the 
chiefs  and  wedanas.  The  Dutch  retained  the  excellent 
British  police  and  judicial  system  in  the  main,  while 
having  more  regard  for  the  native  aristocracy,  their 
prejudices  and  their  laws  of  caste.  British  philan- 
thropy had  introduced  the  British  India  ryot  system 
of  separate  property  in  the  soil  and  a  separate  land- 
tax,  along  with  equality  of  rights,  duties,  and  imposts, 
while  abolishing  all  monopolies,  forced  labor  and  pro- 
ductions. The  natives,  like  true  Orientals,  preferred 


THE   "CULTURE   SYSTEM"  97 

their  own  old  communal  land  system,  with  yearly  allot- 
ments of  village  lands  and  the  just  rotation  of  the 
best  lands,  to  any  modern  system  of  individual  prop- 
erty, and  to  what  was  most  dreaded  by  the  native, 
individual  liability.  The  Dutch  resumed  the  old  land 
system,  exacted  the  old  one  fifth  of  produce  as  land- 
rent,  and  obliged  the  peasants  to  plant  one  fifth  of  the 
village  land  in  crops,  to  be  sold  to  the  government  at 
fixed  prices ;  but  they  only  demanded  one  day's  labor 
in  seven,  instead  of  one  day  in  five.  The  lands  which 
Sir  Stamford  Raffles  had  given  to  the  chiefs  and  petty 
princes  soon  passed  into  the  hands  of  Europeans  or 
Chinese;  and  except  for  this  one  tenth  of  the  land 
held  by  private  owners,  and  two  tenths  held  by  the 
Preanger  regents,  the  rest  of  the  island  became  crown 
land,  subject  to  lease,  but  never  to  be  sold.  The 
Preanger  princes  resumed  their  payment  of  a  revenue 
in  coffee  and  the  sale  of  the  surplus  crop  to  the  gov- 
ernment at  a  fixed  price.  Marshal  Daendels's  planta- 
tions, so  long  neglected,  were  put  in  order  again  and 
cultivated  by  seventh-day  labor.  Each  family  was  re- 
quired to  keep  one  thousand  coffee-trees  in  bearing 
on  village  lands,  to  give  two  fifths  of  the  crop  to  the 
government,  and  deliver  it  cleaned  and  sorted  at  gov- 
ernment warehouses  established  all  through  the  coffee 
districts. 

But  with  the  open  ports,  the  abolition  of  the  govern- 
ment's spice  monopoly  in  1824,  and  the  expenses  of  a 
protracted  war  with  the  native  ruler  of  Middle  Java 
(1817-30),  the  revenues  still  only  met  the  expenses ; 
and  there  was  great  concern  in  Holland  at  the  decrease 
of  the  golden  stream  of  Indian  revenue,  and  conse- 


98     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

quent  satisfaction  in  England  that  its  statesmen  had 
handed  back  the  island,  that  might  have  proved  only 
an  embarrassment  and  intolerable  expense  instead  of 
a  profit  to  the  British  crown.  The  King  of  Holland 
had  established  and  guaranteed  the  Netherlands  Trad- 
ing Company,  which  acted  as  the  commission  agent  of 
the  government  in  Europe,  importing  in  its  own  ships 
exclusively,  selling  all  the  produce  in  Europe,  and 
conducting  a  general  business  in  the  colony.  The 
partial  failure  of  this  company,  which  obliged  the 
king  to  meet  the  guaranteed  interest,  brought  about 
a  new  order  of  things  destined  to  increase  the  colonial 
trade  and  crown  revenues. 

As  private  enterprise  could  not  make  the  Java  trade 
what  it  had  been,  Governor  Van  den  Bosch,  who  ori- 
ginated the  "  culture  system  "  as  a  means  of  relieving 
the  distressed  finances,  was  sent  out  from  Holland  in 
1830,  with  power  to  grant  cash  credits  and  make  ten- 
year  contracts  with  private  individuals  who  would 
assist  in  developing  the  sugar  industry.  Sufficient 
advances  were  made  to  these  colonists  to  enable  them 
to  erect  sugar-mills  and  to  maintain  themselves  until, 
by  the  sales  of  their  products,  they  were  able  to  repay 
the  capital  and  own  their  mills.  The  government 
agreed  that  the  natives  of  each  community  or  district 
should  grow  sufficient  sugar-cane  on  their  lands  to 
supply  the  mills7  capacity,  and  deliver  it  at  the  mills 
at  fixed  rates.  The  natives  were  obliged  to  plant  one 
fifth  of  the  village  lands  in  sugar-cane,  and  each 
man  to  give  one  day's  labor  in  seven  to  tending  the 
crop.  The  village  head  man  was  paid  for  the  com- 
munity three  and  a  half  florins  for  each  picul  of 


THE   "CULTURE  SYSTEM"  101 

sugar  made  from  their  cane,  and  the  natives  who 
worked  in  the  mills  were  paid  regular  wages.  The 
mill-owner  sold  one  third  of  the  finished  product  of 
his  mill  to  the  government,  at  rates  rising  from  eight 
to  ten  florins  the  picul ;  the  mill-owner  paid  back  each 
year  one  tenth  of  the  government's  cash  advanced 
to  him  in  sugar  at  the  same  rate,  and  was  then  free  to 
ship,  as  his  own  venture,  the  balance  of  his  sugar 
to  the  Netherlands  Trading  Company,  which  held 
the  monopoly  of  transport  and  sale  of  government 
produce.  Enormous  profits  resulted  to  the  govern- 
ment and  mill-owners  from  the  sales  of  such  sugar  in 
Europe,  and  during  one  prosperous  decade  the  crown 
of  Holland  enjoyed  a  revenue  amounting  to  more 
than  five  million  dollars  United  States  gold  each  year 
from  its  Java  sugar  sales.  The  whole  east  end  of  the 
island  and  the  low,  hot  lands  along  the  coast  were 
green  at  their  season  with  the  giant  grass  whose  cul- 
tivation has  forced  or  encouraged  slavery  everywhere 
throughout  the  earth's  tropic  belt.  Slavery  itself 
ceased  in  Java  by  royal  edict  in  1859,  but  sugar-cul- 
ture went  on  under  the  admirable  Van  den  Bosch 
system  so  profitably  that  mill-owners  did  not  grumble 
at  having  to  sell  one  third  of  their  product  to  the 
government  at  a  merely  nominal  price. 

The  great  success  in  sugar  led  the  government  to 
extend  the  culture  system's  method  to  other  crops. 
Would-be  colonists  competed  for  such  profitable  con- 
tracts, and  all  young  Holland  cherished  the  ambition 
to  sail  away  to  the  East  and  make  fortunes  on  Java 
plantations.  A  choice  was  exercised  to  secure  the 
best  class  of  young  men  as  colonists ;  education,  culti- 


102  JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

ration,  and  gentlemanly  manners  were  made  essentials, 
and  it  was  known  that  no  absenteeism  would  be  toler- 
ated, that  the  planters  were  expected  to  settle  in  Java 
in  permanence,  and  that  leaves  of  absence  would  be 
granted  during  the  ten-year  contracts  only  for  actual 
illness.  By  providing  military  bands  and  subsidizing 
an  opera,  by  establishing  libraries  and  fostering  the 
museum  of  the  Batavian  Society,  and  by  encouraging 
a  liberal  social  life  among  the  higher  officials,  every- 
thing was  done  to  secure  all  the  advantages  of  civili- 
zation and  to  make  life  tolerable  in  the  far-away 
tropics. 

Early  experiments  had  been  made  with  the  tea-plant 
in  Java,  and  the  government  initiated  tea-growing 
with  great  anticipations.  Tea-plants  and  -seeds  were 
brought  by  botanists  from  Japan  as  early  as  1826,  and 
later  from  China,  together  with  skilled  cultivators  and 
workmen  to  instruct  the  natives.  Crown  lands  were 
leased  on  long  terms,  and  cash  advances  made  during  the 
first  years  of  hill-clearing  and  planting.  The  govern- 
ment obliged  the  planters  to  produce  equal  quantities 
of  green  and  black  tea,  and  four  grades  or  qualities 
of  each  kind ;  the  planters  were  to  repay  the  govern- 
ment's cash  advances  in  tea,  to  sell  the  whole  crop  to 
the  government  at  a  fixed  rate,  and  to  pay  the  work- 
men fixed  wages.  Tea-growing  was  not  profitable  at 
first,  as  there  was  difficulty  in  securing  a  market  in 
Europe  for  the  bitter,  weedy  Java  leaf,  until,  by  a 
great  reduction  in  the  selling-price,  its  cheapness 
gained  it  a  sale  in  Germany.  The  discovery  of  the 
wild  Assam  tea-plant  in  India,  and  the  results  obtained 
by  grafting  it  on  the  Chinese  plant,  marked  a  new 


THE   "CULTURE  SYSTEM"  103 

departure  in  tea-growing,  and  with  better  understand- 
ing of  new  methods  and  the  aid  of  machinery  in  cur- 
ing the  leaf,  tea-gardens  became  profitable  ventures. 
After  fostering  the  industry  to  success,  the  govern- 
ment refused  further  contracts  after  1865,  and  the  tea- 
planters  were  free  to  dispose  of  their  crops  as  they 
wished.  All  through  the  hill-country  of  the  Preangers 
tea-bushes  stripe  the  rolling  ground  for  miles,  and  new 
ground  is  being  cleared  and  leased  each  season.  Java 
teas  have  greatly  improved  in  quality,  and  win  medals 
and  mention  at  every  exposition ;  but  they  have  India 
and  Ceylon  as  formidable  rivals,  in  addition  to  China 
and  Japan,  and  their  market  remains  in  Holland  and 
Germany,  and  in  Persia  and  Arabia  by  way  of  Bom- 
bay—this Mohammedan  trade  an  inheritance  of  those 
early  times,  when  the  Dutch  drove  the  Moormen  out  of 
Ceylon  and  the  far  Eastern  trade. 

While  the  culture  system  was  succeeding  with  sugar 
and  tea,  the  government  coffee-plantations  were  ex- 
tended, and  more  and  more  hill-country  cleared  for 
such  cultivation.  Coffee-culture  was  carried  on  by 
the  government  without  contractors'  aid.  Each  native 
was  obliged  to  plant  six  hundred  Arabian  or  Mocha 
coffee-trees  and  keep  them  in  bearing,  and  deliver  the 
crop  cleaned  and  sorted  at  the  government  warehouses 
at  a  fixed  price— nine  and  twelve  florins  the  picul 
previous  to  1874,  although  forty  and  forty-five  florins 
were  paid  in  the  open  market  of  the  ports.  By  care- 
ful supervision  and  by  percentages  paid  to  native  of- 
ficials for  any  superior  quality  in  the  berries  produced 
in  their  district,  the  coffee  from  Java  government 
stores  was  superior  to  anything  else  sold  in  Europe, 


104     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

and  maintained  its  average  steadily.  Coffee  was  in- 
deed "the  pivot  of  the  Netherlands  colonial  regime," 
a  staple  of  greater  economic  value  than  spices  had  been. 
In  1879,  the  year  of  the  greatest  production  of  the 
government  plantations  in  Java,  some  79,400  tons  of 
coffee  were  shipped  to  Europe.  Blight  and  scale  and 
insect  pests  were  afterward  to  reduce  the  shipments  to 
but  17,750  tons  in  1887. 

Indigo  was  at  first  cultivated  on  the  same  terms  as 
sugar,  but  the  government  soon  dispensed  with  such 
contracts,  bought  back  the  f  abriks,  and  continued  the 
industry  without  contract  aid,  obliging  the  natives  to 
plant  indigo  on  all  village  land  not  required  for  rice, 
and  deliver  the  crop  to  the  mills  at  fixed  prices.  Cin- 
namon, pepper,  cinchona,  and  cochineal  were  grown 
by  the  natives  in  the  same  way,  under  merely  official 
supervision,  and  delivered  to  the  government  for  a 
trifling  price. 

In  1850  the  government  sent  agents  to  Peru  to 
obtain  seeds  of  the  cinchona-tree,  and  after  fifteen 
years  of  effort  and  risk  the  indefatigable  botanists  and 
explorers  secured  the  treasured  seeds  of  the  red-barked 
kina-tree.  The  records  of  those  expeditions,  the 
lives  ventured  and  lost,  are  the  romances  of  travel 
and  exploration;  and  Sir  Clements  Markham's  and 
Charles  Ledger's  narratives  are  most  fascinating  tales. 
The  first  little  nursery  of  trees  in  the  Buitenzorg  Bo- 
tanical Garden  and  in  experimental  gardens  on  higher 
ground  near  Bandong  furnished  the  seeds  and  plants 
from  which  have  sprung  the  great  kina-plantations, 
or  cinchona-groves,  both  government  and  private, 


SCENES  AROUND  THE   MARKET. 


THE  "CULTUBE  SYSTEM"        107 

whose  red  branches  show  in  definite  color-masses  on 
every  hillside  of  the  Preangers,  while  the  spindling 
young  trees  shade  acres  of  tea-,  coffee-,  and  cocoa- 
plants  in  their  first  growths.  Java  now  produces, 
from  government  and  private  plantations  together, 
one  half  of  the  world's  supply  of  quinine,  Ceylon  and 
India  furnishing  the  balance.  Ship-loads  of  bark  are 
sent  to  the  laboratories  or  chemical  factories  of  Europe, 
which  produce  the  precious  sulphate  on  which  rest 
England's  and  Holland's  conquest  of  the  Indies  and 
all  European  domination  in  the  farther  East,  and 
laboratories  are  now  building  for  manufacturing  the 
sulphate  from  the  bark  in  Java. 

Poppy-culture  has  always  been  strictly  prohibited, 
although  the  natives  are  greatly  addicted  to  opium- 
smoking,  especially  in  the  middle  or  Hindu  provinces. 
With  all  their  zeal  for  revenue,  the  Dutch  have  resisted 
the  example  of  the  British  in  India  and  the  Chinese 
in  Szechuen  and  the  western  provinces  of  China,  and 
have  never  let  the  land  bloom  with  that  seductive 
flower.  The  sale  of  opium  is  a  closely  guarded  gov- 
ernment monopoly,  conducted  at  present  under  the 
rfyie  system,  the  government  itself  importing  all  that 
is  consumed  in  the  colony  and  selling  it  from  fixed 
offices  throughout  the  island. 

Salt-works  and  tin-mines  were  managed  in  as  sys- 
tematic and  profitable  a  way  as  crops  and  cultures. 
No  private  individual  was  allowed  to  make  or  import 
salt  into  the  colony.  The  government  still  holds  the 
salt-supply  as  a  monopoly,  and  there  are  large  salt- 
works on  Madura  Island,  where  the  natives  are  re- 


108    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

quired  to  deliver  fixed  quantities  of  coarse  salt  at  the 
government  warehouses  at  the  rate  (in  1897)  of  ten 
gulden  the  kojan  (1853  kilograms).  The  government 
manages  the  tin-mines  on  Banka  Island  in  the  Java 
Sea,  while  the  mines  of  the  neighboring  Billeton  Island 
are  leased  to  private  individuals. 


IX 

THE  "CULTURE  SYSTEM"  (Continued) 

HE  culture  system,  as  an  experiment  in 
colonial  government  and  finance,  was 
the  greatest  success  and  worked  incal- 
culable benefits  to  the  islands  and  the 
native  people,  as  well  as  to  the  assisted 
colonists  and  the  crown  of  Holland.  Great  stretches 
of  jungle  were  cleared  and  brought  under  cultivation, 
and  more  money  was  paid  in  wages  directly  to  native 
cultivators  and  mill  workmen  each  year  than  all  the 
natives  paid  in  taxes  to  the  government.  The  Java- 
nese acquired  better  homes,  much  personal  wealth,  and 
improved  in  all  the  conditions  of  living.  The  popula- 
tion increased  tenfold  during  the  half -century  that  the 
culture  system  was  in  operation — this  alone  an  un- 
answerable reply  to  all  critics  and  detractors,  who  de- 
claimed against  the  oppression  and  outrage  upon  the 
Javanese.  As  the  island  became,  under  this  system, 
a  more  profitable  possession  than  it  had  been  under 
the  real  tyranny  exercised  during  the  days  of  close- 
trade  monopoly,  the  envy  and  attention  of  all  the 
other  colonizing  nations  of  Europe  were  drawn  to  this 

109 


110  JAVA:   THE  GARDEN  OF   THE  EAST 

new  departure  in  colonial  government.  Spain  copied 
the  system  in  its  tobacco-growing  in  the  Philippine 
Islands,  but  could  not  follow  further.  Philanthropic 
and  pharisaical  neighbors,  political  economists,  ad- 
vanced political  thinkers,  humanitarians,  and  senti- 
mentalists, all  addressed  themselves  to  the  subject, 
and  usually  condemned  the  culture  system  in  unmea- 
sured terms.  Holland's  voluntary  abolition  of  slavery 
in  its  East  India  possessions  by  no  means  stilled  the 
storm  of  invective  and  abuse.  Leaders,  speeches, 
books,  pamphlets,  even  novels,1  showed  up  the  horrors, 
the  injustice  and  iniquities  said  to  be  perpetrated  in 
Java.  It  was  shown  that  almost  nothing  of  the  great 
revenues  from  the  island  was  devoted  to  the  education 
or  benefit  of  the  natives ;  that  no  mission  or  evangel- 
ical work  was  undertaken,  or  even  allowed,  by  this 
foremost  Protestant  people  of  Europe ;  and  that  next 
to  nothing  in  the  way  of  public  works  or  permanent 
improvements  resulted  to  the  advantage  of  those  who 
toiled  for  the  alien,  absentee  landlord,  i.  e.,  the  crown 
of  Holland,— the  country  being  drained  of  its  wealth 
for  the  benefit  of  a  distant  monarch.  It  was  estimated 
that  between  1831  and  1877  the  natives  were  mulcted 
of  one  billion,  seven  hundred  million  francs  by  the 
forced  labor  exacted  from  them,  and  the  sales  of 
their  produce  to  the  government  at  the  low  market 
prices  fixed  by  the  purchaser.  By  continued  philippics 
and  exaggerated  accusations,  the  names  of  Dutch 
government  and  Java  planter  became,  to  the  average 
European,  synonyms  for  all  of  rapacity,  tyranny, 

i  "  Max  Havelaar,"  by  Edouard  Douwes  Dekker  (Multatuli) ; 
translation  by  Baron  Nahuys  (Edinburgh,  1868). 


THE  "CULTUEE  SYSTEM"        113 

extortion,  and  cruelty,  and  there  was  an  impression 
that  something  worse  than  Spanish  persecution  in  the 
Netherlands,  in  the  name  of  religion,  was  being  carried 
on  by  the  Hollanders  in  Java  in  the  name  of  the 
almighty  florin.  All  the  iniquities  and  horrors  of  the 
Dutch  management  of  the  cinnamon-gardens  of  Cey- 
lon, and  all  the  infamy  of  the  Dutch  East  India  Com- 
pany's misrule  in  Java  during  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries,  were  stupidly  mixed  up  with  and 
charged  against  the  comparatively  admirable,  the 
orderly  and  excellently  devised  culture  system  of  Gov- 
ernor Van  den  Bosch.  Contractor  planters  vainly 
urged  that  the  only  tyranny  and  oppression  of  the 
people  came  from  their  own  village  chiefs ;  but  philan- 
thropists pointed  steadily  to  the  colonial  government 
and  the  system  which  inspired  and  upheld  the  village 
tyrants. 

In  1859  Mr.  J.  W.  B.  Money,  a  Calcutta  barrister, 
visited  Java,  made  exhaustive  search  and  inquiry  into 
every  branch  and  detail  of  the  culture  system's  work- 
ing, and  put  the  results  in  book  form  inwoven  with  a 
comparison  with  the  less  intelligent  and  successful 
management  of  the  land  and  labor  question  in  British 
India,  where,  with  sixteen  times  the  area  and  twelve 
times  the  population  of  Java,  the  revenue  is  only  four 
times  as  great.  His  book,  "Java:  How  to  Manage 
a  Colony"  (London,  Hurst  &  Blackett,  1861),  is  a 
most  complete  and  reliable  resume  of  the  subject,  and 
his  opinions  throughout  were  an  indorsement  of  the 
Van  den  Bosch  culture  system.  He  contrasted 
warmly  the  failure  and  inefficiency  of  the  British 
India  ryot  warree,  or  land  system,  with  the  established 


114    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

communal  system  which  the  Oriental  prefers  and  is 
fitted  for,  and  showed  how  a  similar  culture  system  in 
Bengal  and  Madras  would  have  worked  to  the  advan- 
tage, benefit,  and  profit  of  Hindustan,  the  Hindus,  and 
the  British  crown.  Mr.  Money  especially  noted  how 
the  Dutch  refrained  from  interfering  with  native  pre- 
judices and  established  customs ;  how  the  prestige  of 
the  native  aristocracy  was  as  carefully  maintained  as 
that  of  the  white  race,  with  no  modern,  Western  notions 
of  equality,  even  before  the  law,  the  Dutch  securing 
regentship  to  the  leading  noble  of  a  district,  and  giv- 
ing him  more  revenue  and  actual  power  than  were 
possible  under  the  native  emperor.  Mr.  Money  noted 
only  the  best  of  feeling  apparently  existing  between 
natives  and  Europeans,  a  condition  dating  entirely 
from  the  establishment  of  the  culture  system,  and  the 
general  prosperity  that  succeeded.  "  No  country  in 
the  East  can  show  so  rich  or  so  contented  a  peasantry 
as  Java,"  he  said. 

Alfred  Bussel  Wallace,  who  visited  Java  several 
times  between  1854  and  1862,  while  the  culture  system 
was  at  the  height  of  its  successful  working,  spoke  in 
approval  and  praise  of  what  he  saw  of  the  actual  sys- 
tem and  its  results,  and  commended  it  as  the  only 
means  of  forcing  an  indolent,  tropical  race  to  labor 
and  develop  the  resources  and  industries  of  the  island. 
His  was  one  of  the  few  clear,  dispassionate,  and  in- 
telligent statements  given  on  that  side,  and  he  summed 
up  his  observations  in  the  declaration  that  Java  was 
"  the  very  garden  of  the  East,  and  perhaps,  upon  the 
whole,  the  richest,  best-cultivated,  and  the  best-governed 
island  in  the  world." 


THE   "CULTURE   SYSTEM"  115 

The  competition  of  French  beet-sugar,  fed  by  large 
government  bounties,  of  West  Indian  and  Hawaiian 
sugars,  so  reduced  the  price  of  sugar  in  Europe  that 
in  1871  the  Dutch  government  began  to  withdraw 
from  the  sugar-trade,  and  by  1890  had  no  interest  in 
nor  connection  with  any  of  the  many  mills  which  col- 
onists had  built  on  the  island.  Java  ranks  second 
only  to  Cuba  in  the  production  of  sugar-cane,  and  now 
produces  about  one-tenth  of  the  world's  supply  of 
sugar.  The  average  annual  crop  is  852,400  tons,  and 
the  value  of  the  sugar  harvest  in  1905  was  £15,000,- 
000.  The  distillation  of  arack  for  the  trade  with 
Norway  and  Sweden  is  an  important  industry  in  both 
islands. 

At  the  time  that  sugar  began  to  fall  in  price,  owing 
to  Western  competition,  Brazilian  and  Central  Ameri- 
can coffees  began  to  command  a  place  in  the  European 
market  and  to  reduce  prices;  and  then  the  blight, 
which  reached  Sumatra  in  1876,  attacked  Java  planta- 
tions in  1879,  and  spread  slowly  over  the  island,  ruin- 
ing one  by  one  all  the  plantations  of  the  choice  Ara- 
bian or  Mocha  coffee-trees.  As  the  area  of  thriving 
plantations  decreased,  and  acres  and  acres  of  the  white 
skeletons  of  blighted  trees  belted  the  hillsides,  vain 
attempts  were  made  at  replanting.  Only  the  tough, 
woody,  coarse  African  or  Liberian  coffee-tree,  with  its 
large  leaves  and  large,  flat  berries,— a  plant  which 
thrives  equally  in  a  damp  or  a  dry  climate,  and  luxu- 
riates in  the  poorest,  stoniest  ground,— seems  to  be 
proof  against  the  blight  that  devastated  the  Ceylon 
and  Java  coffee-plantations  so  thoroughly  at  the  same 
time.  Many  of  the  old  coffee-plantations  in  Java,  as 


116    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

in  Ceylon,  were  burned  over  and  planted  to  tea ;  yet 
in  many  places  in  the  Preangers  one  sees  the  bleached 
skeletons  of  Arabian  trees  still  standing,  and  the  aban- 
doned plantations  smothered  in  weeds  and  creepers, 
and  fast  relapsing  to  jungle.  The  virgin  soil  of  Su- 
matra has  so  far  escaped  the  severest  attacks  of  the 
blight,  and  the  center  of  coffee-production  there  is 
near  Padang,  on  the  west  coast,  whence  the  bulk  of 
the  crop  goes  directly  to  England  or  America  in  Brit- 
ish ships. 

The  blight  forced  the  Dutch  government  to  begin 
its  retirement  from  the  coffee-trade,  and  but  the 
smallest  fraction  of  the  coffee  exported  now  goes  from 
government  plantations  or  warehouses.  Nearly  all  the 
Sumatra  plantations  are  owned  or  leased  by  private 
individuals,  and  the  greater  part  of  coffee  lands  in 
Java  are  cultivated  by  independent  planters,  who 
sell  their  crop  freely  in  the  open  market.  With  the 
wholesale  replanting  of  the  Liberian  tree  in  place  of 
the  Arabian,  and  the  shipping  only  of  the  large,  flat 
Liberian  bean  instead  of  the  Mocha's  small,  round 
berry,  it  is  questionable  whether  the  little  real  "  gov- 
ernment Java "  that  goes  to  market  is  entitled  to  the 
name  which  won  the  esteem  of  coffee-drinking  people 
for  the  century  before  the  blight.  The  Dutch  govern- 
ment still  raises  and  sells  coffee,  but  under  strong 
protest  and  opposition  in  Holland,  and  as  a  temporary 
concession  during  these  times  of  financial  straits. 

Public  opinion  was  gradually  aroused  in  Holland, 
and  opponents  of  the  culture  system  at  last  spoke  out 
in  the  States-General ;  but  not  until  the  prices  of  sugar 
and  coffee  had  fallen  seriously,  and  the  blight  had 


THE  "CULTURE  SYSTEM"        117 

ruined  nearly  all  the  government  coffee-plantations, 
did  the  stirring  of  Holland's  conscience  bid  the  govern- 
ment retire  from  trade  and  agriculture,  and  leave  the 
development  of  the  island's  resources,  in  natural  and 
legitimate  ways,  to  the  enterprise  of  the  many  Euro- 
pean settlers  then  established  in  permanence  in  Java, 
who  had  begun  to  see  that  the  government  was  their 
most  serious  rival  and  competitor  in  the  market. 

The  common  sense  and  cooler  vision  of  these  days 
since  its  abandonment  have  shown  that  the  culture 
system  was  an  inspiration,  a  stroke  of  administrative 
genius  of  the  first  order,  accomplishing  in  a  few  dec- 
ades, for  the  material  welfare  of  the  island  and  its 
people,  what  the  native  race  of  a  tropical  country 
never  could  or  would  have  done  in  centuries.  The 
American  mind  naturally  puzzles  most  over  the  idea 
that  twenty  odd  millions  of  people  of  one  race,  lan- 
guage, and  religion  should  ever  have  submitted  to  be 
ruled  by  a  mere  handful  of  over-sea  usurpers  and 
speculators.  Considering  the  genius  and  characteris- 
tics of  all  Asiatic  people,  their  superstitions,  fatalism, 
self-abasement,  and  continuous  submission  to  alien 
conquests  and  despotisms,  which  all  their  histories  re- 
cord and  their  religions  almost  seem  to  enjoin,  and 
remembering  the  successive  Buddhist,  Brahmanic,  and 
Mohammedan  conquests  and  conversions  of  Java,  and 
the  domestic  wars  of  three  centuries  since  Islam's  in- 
vasion, the  half -century  of  the  culture  system's  prosper- 
ous trial  seems  a  most  fortunate  epoch  and  the  cause 
of  the  admirable  and  surprising  conditions  existing 
to-day  in  that  model  garden  and  hothouse  of  the  world. 

It  was  much  regretted  later  that  some  part  of  the 


118     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

culture  system's  enormous  profits  was  not  devoted  to 
railway  construction  and  the  making  of  the  new  har- 
bor for  Batavia  at  Tandjon  Priok,  as,  immediately 
after  the  system's  abandonment,  railways  and  the  new 
harbor  became  more  urgent  needs,  and  had  to  be  pro- 
vided for  out  of  the  current  revenues,  then  taxed  with 
the  vigorous  beginning  of  the  Achinese  struggle — 
Holland's  thirty  years'  war  in  the  Indies,  which  has  so 
sadly  crippled  the  exchequer.  In  order  to  provide  a 
crown  revenue  in  lieu  of  the  sugar  and  coffee  sales,  a 
poll-tax  was  imposed  on  the  natives  in  place  of  the 
seventh  of  their  labor  given  to  culture-system  crops, 
and  increased  taxes  were  levied  on  lands  and  property ; 
but  through  the  extensive  public  works,  the  long-con- 
tinued Achinese  war  in  Sumatra,  and  the  little  war 
with  the  Sassaks  in  Lombok  (1894),  the  deficits  in  the 
colonial  budgets  have  become  more  ominous  every  year 
since  1876.  The  crown  of  Holland  no  longer  receives 
a  golden  stream  from  the  Indies,  and  is  pushed  to  de- 
vise means  to  meet  its  obligations. 

The  culture  system  brought  to  Java  a  selected  lot 
of  refined,  intelligent,  capable,  energetic  colonists, 
who,  settling  there  in  permanence  and  increasing 
their  holdings  and  wealth,  have  become  the  most 
numerous  and  important  body  of  Europeans  on  the 
island.  The  great  sugar  and  coffee  barons,  the  patri- 
archal rulers  of  vast  tea-gardens,  the  kina  and  tobacco 
kings,  really  rule  Netherlands  India.  The  planters 
and  the  native  princes  have,  much  in  common,  and  in 
the  Preangers  these  horse-racing  country  gentlemen 
affiliate  greatly  and  make  common  social  cause  against 
the  small  aristocracy  of  office-holders,  who  have  been 


THE  "CULTURE  SYSTEM"  119 

wont  to  regard  the  native  nobles  and  the  mercantile 
communities  of  the  ports  from  on  high. 

The  colonial  government  has  never  welcomed  aliens 
to  the  isles,  whether  those  bent  on  business  or  on 
pleasure.  Dutch  suspicion  still  throws  as  many  diffi- 
culties as  possible  in  the  way  of  a  tourist,  and  it  took 
strong  preventive  measures  against  an  influx  of  Brit- 
ish or  other  uitlander  planters  when  the  abandonment 
of  the  culture  system  made  private  plantations  desir- 
able, and  the  opening  of  the  Suez  Canal  brought  Java 
so  near  to  Europe.  As  a  better  climate,  better  physi- 
cal conditions  of  every  kind,  and  a  more  docile,  indus- 
trious native  race  were  to  be  found  in  Java  than  else- 
where in  the  Indies,  there  was  a  threatened  invasion 
of  coffee-  and  tea-planters,  more  particularly  from 
India  and  Ceylon.  The  Boer  of  the  tropics,  like  his 
kinsman  in  South  Africa,  found  effectual  means  to  so 
hamper  as  virtually  to  exclude  the  uitlander  planters. 
Land-transfers  and  leases  were  weighted  with  incon- 
ceivable restrictions  and  impositions ;  heavy  taxes,  irk- 
some police  and  passport  regulations,  and  nearly  as 
many  restraints  as  were  put  upon  Arabs  and  Chinese, 
urged  the  British  planter  to  go  elsewhere,  since  he 
could  not  have  any  voice  in  local  or  colonial  govern- 
ment in  a  lifetime.1  Six  years'  residence  is  required 
for  naturalization,  but  the  Briton  is  rarely  willing  to 
change  his  allegiance— it  is  his  purpose  rather  to 
Anglicize,  naturalize,  annex,  or  protect  all  outlying 
countries  as  English. 

The  governor-general  of  the  colony  may  revoke  the 
toelatiiigs-kaart  of  any  one,  Dutch  as  well  as  alien, 
1  See  "A  Visit  to  Java,"  W.  Basil  Worsfold,  London,  1893. 


120     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

and  order  him  out  of  Netherlands  India ;  and  a  resi- 
dent is  such  an  autocrat  that  he  can  order  any  planter 
or  trader  out  of  his  domain  if  it  is  shown  that  he 
habitually  maltreats  or  oppresses  the  natives,  or  does 
anything  calculated  to  compromise  the  superior  stand- 
ing or  prestige  of  the  white  people.  The  Dutch  are 
severe  upon  this  latter  point,  and  the  best  of  them 
uphold  a  certain  noblesse  oblige  as  imperative  upon  all 
who  possess  a  white  skin.  The  European  military 
officer  is  sent  to  Holland  for  court  martial  and  punish- 
ment, that  the  native  soldiers  may  remain  ignorant  of 
his  degradation,  and  the  European  who  descends  to 
drunkenness  is  hurried  from  native  sight  and  warned. 
While  the  conquerors  hold  these  people  with  an  iron 
grasp,  they  aim  to  treat  them  with  absolute  justice. 
Many  officials  and  planters  have  married  native  wives, 
and  their  children,  educated  in  Europe,  with  all  the 
advantages  of  wealth  and  cultured  surroundings,  do 
not  encounter  any  race  or  color  prejudice  nor  any 
social  barriers  in  their  life  in  Java.  They  are  Euro- 
peans in  the  eye  of  the  law  and  the  community,  and 
enjoy  "  European  freedom."  No  native  man  is  allowed 
to  marry  or  to  employ  a  European,  not  even  as  a  tutor 
or  governess,  and  no  such  subversion  of  social  order 
as  the  employment  of  a  European  servant  is  to  be 
thought  of.  There  is  a  romance,  all  too  true,  of  gov- 
ernmental interference,  and  the  dismissal  from  his 
office  of  regent,  of  the  native  prince  who  wished  to 
marry  a  European  girl  whose  parents  fully  consented 
to  the  alliance.  The  laws  allow  a  European  to  put 
away  his  native  wife,  to  legally  divorce  her,  upon  the 
slightest  pretexts,  and  to  abandon  her  and  her  chil- 


THE  "CULTUEE  SYSTEM"        121 

dren  with  little  redress ;  but  fear  of  Malay  revenge, 
the  chilling  tales  of  slow,  mysterious  deaths  overtak- 
ing those  who  desert  Malay  wives  or  return  to  Europe 
without  these  jealous  women,  act  as  restraining  forces. 

The  Dutch  do  not  pose  as  philanthropists,  nor  pre- 
tend to  be  in  Java  "for  the  good  of  the  natives.' 
They  have  found  the  truth  of  the  old  adage  after  cen- 
turies of  obstinate  experiment  in  the  other  line,  and 
honesty  in  all  dealings  with  the  native  is  much  the 
best  policy  and  conduces  most  to  the  general  prosper- 
ity and  abundant  crops.  Fear  of  the  Malay  spirit  of 
revenge,  and  the  terrible  series  of  conspiracies  and 
revolts  of  earlier  times,  have  done  much,  perhaps,  to 
bring  about  this  era  of  kindness,  fair  dealing,  and 
justice.  The  native  is  now  assured  his  rights  almost 
more  certainly  than  in  some  freer  countries,  and  every 
effort  is  made  to  prevent  the  exercise  of  tyrannical 
authority  by  village  chiefs,  the  main  oppressors.  He 
can  always  appeal  to  justice  and  be  heard ;  the  prestige 
of  the  native  aristocracy  is  carefully  maintained ;  the 
Oriental  ideas  of  personal  dignity  and  the  laws  of 
caste  are  strictly  regarded,  and,  if  from  prudential  and 
economic  reasons  only,  no  omissions  in  such  lines  are 
allowed  to  disturb  the  even  flow  of  the  florin  Holland- 
ward. 

Already  the  spirit  of  the  age  is  beginning  to  reach 
Java,  and  it  is  something  to  make  all  the  dead  Hol- 
landers turn  in  their  graves  when  it  can  be  openly 
suggested  that  there  should  be  a  separate  and  inde- 
pendent budget  for  Netherlands  India,  and  that  there 
should  be  some  form  of  popular  representation — a  de- 
liberative assembly  of  elected  officials  to  replace  the 


122     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

close  Council  of  India.  In  fact,  suggestions  for  the 
actual  autonomy  of  Java  have  been  uttered  aloud. 
There  are  ominous  signs  everywhere,  and  the  govern- 
ment finds  its  petty  remnant  of  coffee-culture  and 
grocery  business  a  more  vexing  and  difficult  venture 
each  year.  The  Samarang  "  Handelsblad,"  in  com- 
menting on  it,  says: 

"  The  Javanese  are  no  longer  as  easily  led  and  driven 
as  a  flock  of  sheep,  however  much  we  may  deplore 
that  their  character  has  changed  in  this  respect.  The 
Javanese  come  now  a  great  deal  into  contact  with 
Europeans,  the  education  spread  among  them  has  had 
an  effect,  and  communication  has  been  rendered  easy. 
They  do  not  fear  the  European  as  they  did  formerly. 
The  time  is  gone  when  the  entire  population  of  a 
village  could  be  driven  to  a  far-off  plantation  with  a 
stick ;  the  pruning-knife  and  the  ax  would  quickly  be 
turned  against  the  driver  in  our  times.  The  Javanese 
to-day  does  not  believe  that  you  are  interested  in  his 
welfare  only ;  he  is  well  aware  that  he  is  cheated  out 
of  a  large  proportion  of  the  value  of  the  coffee  that  is 
harvested.  Some  people  may  think  it  a  pity  that  the 
time  of  coercion  is  coming  to  an  end  in  Java,  but  that 
cannot  change  the  facts.  The  dark  period  in  the  his- 
tory of  Java  is  passing  away,  and  every  effort  to  pre- 
vent reforms  will  call  forth  the  enmity  of  the  natives." 

The  state  committee  on  government  coffee-planta- 
tions says  in  its  latest  reports: 

"  It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  intellectual  status  of 
the  Javanese  at  the  present  day  is  very  different  from 
that  during  the  time  when  the  coffee  monopoly  was 
introduced.  The  reforms  which  we  have  introduced 


THE  "CULTURE  SYSTEM"         125 

in  the  administration  of  justice,  the  education  accord- 
ing to  Western  methods,  and  the  free  admission  of 
private  enterprise  have  all  brought  about  a  change. 
If  the  native  has  not  become  more  progressive  and 
more  sensible,  he  is  at  least  wiser  in  matters  about 
which  he  had  best  be  kept  in  the  dark,  unless  the  gov- 
ernment means  to  remove  coercion  at  the  expense  of 
the  exchequer." 

The  Amsterdam  "  Handelsblad  n  remarks  that,  "  as 
far  as  the  Dutch  possessions  are  concerned,  coercion 
and  monopoly  indeed  must  go.  People  who  cannot 
see  this  betimes  will  find  out  their  mistake  rather 
suddenly." 

That  sage  socialist,  filisee  Reclus,  remarks  that 
"  once  more  it  appears  that  monopoly  ends  in  the  ruin 
not  only  of  the  despoilers,  but  of  the  state." 


SINAGAR 


CIENTISTS  and  lay  tourists  have  equally 
exhausted  their  adjectives  in  laudations 
of  Java,  Miss  Marianne  North  calling  it 
"  one  magnificent  garden  of  luxuriance, 
surpassing  Brazil,  Jamaica,  and  Sarawak 
combined";  and  Alfred  Russel  Wallace  epitomizing 
it  after  this  fashion :  "  Taking  it  as  a  whole,  and  sur- 
veying it  from  every  point  of  view,  Java  is  probably 
the  very  finest  and  most  interesting  tropical  island  in 
the  world.  .  .  .  The  most  fertile,  productive,  and 
populous  island  in  the  tropics."  Lesser  folk  have 
been  as  sweeping  in  their  superlatives,  and  all  agree 
that,  of  all  exiled  cultivators  in  the  far  parts  of  the 
world,  the  Java  planter  is  most  to  be  envied,  leading, 
as  he  does,  the  ideal  tropical  life,  the  one  best  worth 
living,  in  a  land  where  over  great  areas  it  is  always 
luxurious,  dreamy  afternoon,  and  in  the  beautiful 
hill-country  is  always  the  fresh,  breezy,  dewy  summer 
forenoon  of  the  rarest  June. 

The  most  favored  and  the  most  famous  plantations 
126 


SINAGAR  127 

are  those  around  Buitenzorg  and  in  the  Preanger  re- 
gencies, which  lie  on  the  other  side  of  Gedeh  and 
Salak,  those  two  sleeping  volcanoes  that  look  down 
upon  their  own  immediate  foot-hills  and  valleys,  to 
see  those  great,  rolling  tracts  all  cultivated  like  a 
Haarlem  tulip-bed.  Above  the  cacao  limit,  tea-gar- 
dens, coffee-estates,  and  kina-plantations  cover  all  the 
land  lying  between  the  altitudes  of  two  thousand  and 
four  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  The 
owners  of  these  choicest  bits  of  "the  Garden  of  the 
East "  lead  an  existence  that  all  other  planters  of  grow- 
ing crops,  and  most  people  who  value  the  creature 
comforts,  the  luxuries  of  life,  and  nature's  opulence, 
may  envy.  The  climate  of  the  hills  is  all  that  Sybarite 
could  wish  for,— a  perpetual  70°  by  day,  with  light 
covering  required  at  night, — the  warm  sun  of  the 
tropics  tempering  the  fresh  mountain  air  to  an  eternal 
mildness,  in  which  the  human  animal  thrives  and  lux- 
uriates quite  as  do  all  the  theobromas  and  caffein 
plants  in  the  ground.  In  the  near  circle  of  these  two 
great  peaks  there  is  no  really  dry  season,  despite  the 
southeast  monsoon  of  the  conventional  summer 
months.  Every  day  in  the  year  enjoys  its  shower, 
swept  from  one  mountain  or  the  other ;  and  the  heavy 
thunder-storms  at  the  change  of  the  monsoons  and 
during  the  winter  rainy  season  are  the  joy  of  the 
planter's  heart,  shaking  out  myriads  of  young  tea- 
leaves  by  their  jar  and  rushing  winds,  and  freshening 
the  coffee-trees  like  a  tonic.  As  every  day  has  its 
shower,  each  day  has  its  tea-crop  gathered  and  cured 
in  this  favorable  region ;  and  that  profitable  industry 
is  as  continuous  and  unchanging  as  the  seasons  on  the 


128     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

Preanger  hillsides,  and  paramount  there,  now  that 
coffee  is  no  longer  king. 

The  two  great  plantations  of  Sinagar  and  Parakan 
Salak,  principalities  of  twelve  and  fifteen  thousand 
acres  respectively,  that  lie  in  the  valley  between  Salak 
and  Gedeh,  are  the  oldest  and  the  model  tea-gardens  of 
Java,  the  show-places  of  the  Preangers.  Parong  Koeda 
and  Tjibitad,  an  hour  beyond  Buitenzorg,  are  practi- 
cally private  rail  way-stations  for  these  two  great  estates. 
The  post-road  from  Tjibitad  to  Sinagar  follows  the 
crest  of  a  ridge,  and  gives  magnificent  views  between 
its  shade-trees  over  twenty  miles  of  rolling  country, 
cultivated  to  the  last  acre.  Blue  vapors  were  tumbling 
in  masses  about  the  summit  of  Salak  the  afternoon  we 
coursed  along  the  avenues  of  shade-trees,  and  the  low 
growls  of  distant  thunder  gave  promise  of  the  regular 
afternoon  benefit  shower  to  the  thirsty  plants  and  trees 
that  ridged  every  slope  and  level  with  lines  of  luxuriant- 
green.  The  small  ponies  scampered  down  an  avenue 
of  magnificent  kanari-trees,  with  a  village  of  basket 
houses  like  to  those  of  Lilliput  at  the  base  of  the  lofty 
trunks,  and,  with  a  rush  and  a  sudden  turn  around 
tall  shrubbery,  brought  up  before  the  low  white  bun- 
galow, where  the  master  of  Sinagar  sat  in  his  envied 
ease  under  such  vines  and  trees  as  would  form  a 
mise  en  scene  for  an  ideal,  generally  acceptable  para- 
dise. A  sky-line  of  tall  areca-palms,  massed  flame- 
trees,  and  tamarinds,  with  vivid-leafed  bougainvillea 
vines  pouring  down  from  one  tree-top  and  mantling 
two  or  three  lesser  trees,  filled  the  immediate  view 
from  the  great  portico-hall,  or  living-room,  where  the 
welcoming  cups  of  afternoon  tea  were  at  once  served. 


SINAGAR  129 

With  the  nearest  neighbor  ten  miles  away,  and  the 
thousand  workmen  employed  upon  the  place  settled 
with  their  families  in  different  villages  within  its  con- 
fines, Sinagar  is  a  little  world  or  industrial  commune 
by  itself,  its  master  a  patriarchal  ruler,  whose  sway 
over  these  gentle,  childlike  Javanese  is  as  absolute  as 
it  is  kindly  and  just.  The  "master"  has  sat  under 
his  Sinagar  palms  and  gorgeous  bougainvilleas  for 
twenty-six  out  of  the  thirty-three  years  spent  in  Java, 
and  his  sons  and  daughters  have  grown  up  there,  gone 
to  Holland  to  finish  their  studies,  and,  returning,  have 
made  Sinagar  a  social  center  of  this  part  of  the 
Preangers.  The  life  is  like  that  of  an  English  country 
house,  with  continental  and  tropical  additions  that 
unite  in  a  social  order  replete  with  pleasure  and  in- 
terest. Weekly  musicales  are  preceded  by  large  din- 
ner-parties, guests  driving  from  twenty  miles  away 
and  coming  by  train ;  and,  with  visitors  in  turn  from 
all  parts  of  the  world,  the  guest-book  is  a  polyglot  and 
cosmopolitan  record  of  great  interest.  Long  wings 
have  been  added  to  the  original  bungalow  dwelling, 
inclosing  a  spacious  court,  or  garden,  all  connected  by 
arcades  and  all  illuminated  by  electric  lights.  The 
ladies'  boudoir  at  the  far  end  of  the  buildings  opens 
from  a  great  portico,  or  piazza,  furnished  with  the  ham- 
mocks, the  ratan  furniture,  and  the  countless  pillows 
of  a  European  or  American  summer  villa,  but  looking 
out  on  a  marvelous  flower-garden  and  an  exquisite 
landscape  view.  To  that  portico  were  brought  the 
rarest  flowers  and  fruits  for  our  inspection,— such 
lilies  and  orchids  and  strangely  fragrant  things!  — 
and  we  cut  apart  cacao-pods,  and  those  "velvety, 


130     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

cream-colored  peaches"  inclosing  the  nutmeg,  and 
dissected  clove-buds  with  a  zeal  that  amused  the  young 
hostesses,  to  whom  these  had  all  been  childhood  toys. 
The  telephone  and  telegraph  connect  all  parts  of  the 
estate  with  virtually  all  parts  of  the  world ;  and  with 
the  great  news  of  Europe  clicking  in  from  Batavia,  or 
"helloed"  over  by  some  friend  at  Buitenzorg,  one  could 
quite  forget  the  distance  from  the  older  centers  of 
civilization,  and  wonder  that  all  the  world  did  not 
make  Java  its  playground  and  refuge  of  delight,  and 
every  man  essay  the  role  of  Java  planter. 

While  we  sat  at  tea  that  first  afternoon,  two  bril- 
liant scarlet  minivers  flashed  across  the  screen  of 
shrubbery  like  tongues  of  flame,  followed  by  crimson- 
and-black  orioles ;  while  at  the  master's  call  a  flock  of 
azure-aud-iris-winged  pigeons  came  whirling  through 
the  air  and  settled  before  us  in  all  the  sheen  and  beauty 
of  their  plumage.  A  great  wire  house  full  of  rare 
tropic  birds  was  the  center  of  attraction  for  all  the 
wild  birds  of  the  neighborhood,  and  gorgeously  fea- 
thered and  strangely  voiced  visitors  were  always  on 
wing  among  the  shrubbery.  In  that  big  aviary  lived 
and  flew  and  walked  in  beauty  the  crested  Java  pigeon, 
a  creature  flashing  with  all  intense  prismatic  blues, 
and  wearing  on  its  head  an  aigret  of  living  sapphires 
trembling  on  long,  pliant  stems — one  of  the  most 
graceful  and  beautiful  birds  in  the  world.  Other 
birds  of  brilliant  plumage,  wonderful  cockatoos, 
parrots,  long-tailed  pheasants,  and  beauties  of  un- 
known name,  lived  as  a  happy  family  in  the  one  great 
cage,  around  which  prowled  and  sat  licking  its  whis- 
kers a  cat  of  most  enterprising  and  sagacious  mien— a 


SINAGAE  131 

cat  that  had  come  all  the  way  from  Chicago,  only  to 
have  its  lakeside  appetite  tormented  by  this  Barmecide 
feast  of  rainbow  birds. 

"We  were  led  past  flower-beds  nodding  with  strange 
lilies,  past  rose-gardens  and  oleander-hedges,  down  a 
paved  path  that  was  a  steep  tunnel  through  dense 
shrubbery  and  overarching  trees,  to  a  great  white 
marble  tank,  or  swimming-pool,  as  large  as  a  ball- 
room; though  few  ball-rooms  can  ever  have  such 
lavish  decorations  of  palms,  bamboos,  and  tree-ferns 
as  screen  that  pool  around,  with  the  purple  summit 
of  Salak  showing  just  above  the  highest  plumes  and 
fronds— a  landscape  study  just  fitted  for  a  theatrical 
drop-curtain.  We  might  swim  or  splash,  dive  or 
float,  or  sit  on  marble  steps  and  comfortably  soak  at 
will  in  that  great  white  tank,  the  clear  spring  water 
warmed  by  the  sun  to  a  soothing  temperature  for  the 
long,  luxurious  afternoon  bath,  and  cooled  sufficiently 
through  the  night  to  give  refreshing  shock  to  early 
morning  plungers.  Only  the  approaching  storm,  the 
nearer  rumbles  of  thunder,  and  finally  the  first  small 
raindrops  induced  us  to  leave  that  fairy  white  pool, 
deep  sunk  in  its  tropic  glen. 

After  a  half -hour  of  soft  rain,  accompanied  by  three 
sharp  thunder-claps,  the  climate  had  done  its  perfect 
work ;  every  tree,  bird,  flower,  and  insect  rejoiced,  and 
all  nature  literally  sang.  The  warm  red  earth  breathed 
pleasant  fragrance,  every  tree  had  its  aroma,  and  the 
perfumed  flowers  were  overpowering  with  fresh  sweet- 
ness. Then  the  master  led  the  house  party  for  a  long 
walk,  first  through  the  oldest  tea-gardens,  where 
every  leaf  on  every  plant  was  erect,  shining,  as  if  ready 


132     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

for  dress-parade,  and  more  intensely,  softly  green  than 
ever  after  the  daily  shower-bath  and  wind  toilet.  "We 
strolled  on  through  a  toy  village  under  a  kanari 
avenue,  where  all  the  avocations  and  industries  of 
Javanese  life  were  on  view,  and  the  little  people,  smil- 
ing their  welcome,  dropped  on  their  heels  in  the  per- 
manent courtesy  of  the  dodok,  the  squatting  attitude 
of  humility  common  to  all  Asiatics.  The  servants  who 
had  brought  notes  to  the  master,  as  he  sat  on  the 
porch,  crouched  on  their  heels  as  they  offered  them, 
and  remained  in  that  position  until  dismissed;  and 
the  villagers  and  wayfarers,  hastily  dropping  on  their 
'haunches,  maintained  that  lowly,  reverent  attitude 
until  we  had  passed — an  attitude  and  a  degree  of 
deference  not  at  all  comfortable  for  an  American  to 
contemplate,  ineradicable  old  Javanese  custom  as  it 
may  be.  The  tiny  brown  babies,  exactly  matching 
the  brown  earth  in  tone,  crawled  over  the  warm  lap 
of  nature,  crowing  and  gurgling  their  pleasure,  their 
plump  little  bodies  free  from  all  garments,  and  equally 
free  from  any  danger  of  croups  or  colds  from  exposure 
to  the  weather.  We  took  a  turn  through  the  great 
cement-floored  fabrik  with  its  ingenious  machines  all 
silent  for  that  night,  and  only  the  electric-light  dyna- 
mos whirling  to  illuminate  the  great  settlement  of  out- 
buildings around  the  residence.  The  stables  were 
another  great  establishment  by  themselves,  and  fifty 
odd  Arabian  and  Australian  thoroughbreds,  housed  in 
a  long,  open-fronted  stable,  were  receiving  their  even- 
ing rub  and  fare  from  a  legion  of  grooms.  Morphine, 
Malaria,  Quinine,  Moses,  and  Aaron,  and  other  cup- 
winners,  arched  their  shining  necks,  pawed  to  us,  and 


SINAGAR  133 

nibbled  their  reward  of  tasseled  rice-heads,  brought 
on  carrying-poles  from  the  granaries,  where  legions 
of  rice-sparrows  twittered  in  perpetual  residence.  We 
sat  on  a  bank  near  the  little  race-course,  or  manege, 
where  the  colts  are  trained,  and  the  favorites  were  led 
past  and  put  through  their  paces  and  accomplishments 
one  by  one.  It  was  almost  dusk,  with  the  swiftness 
with  which  day  closes  in  the  tropics,  when  the  banteng, 
or  wild  cow  (Bos  sondaicus),  was  trotted  out— a  clumsy, 
dun-colored  creature,  with  a  strange,  musky  odor,  that 
was  brought  as  a  calf  from  the  wild  south-coast  coun- 
try, and  was  at  once  mothered  and  protected  by  a 
fussy  little  sheep,  "  the  European  goat,"  as  the  natives 
call  the  woolly  animal  from  abroad,  that  was  still 
guiding  and  driving  it  with  all  the  intelligence  of  a 
collie. 

The  bachelor  planter  partner  showed  us  his  bunga- 
low, full  of  hunting- trophies— skulls  and  skins  of  pan- 
thers, tigers,  and  wild  dogs ;  tables  made  of  rhinoceros- 
hide  resting  on  rhinoceros  and  elephant  skulls,  and 
tables  made  of  mammoth  turtle-shells  resting  on  deer- 
antlers.  The  great  prizes  were  the  nine  huge  banteng 
skulls,  trophies  of  hunting-trips  to  the  South  Prean- 
ger,  the  lone  region  bordering  on  the  Indian  Ocean. 
There  were  also  chandeliers  of  deer-antlers,  and  a 
frieze-like  wall-bordering  of  python-skins,  strange 
tusks  and  teeth,  wings  and  feathers  galore,  and  dozens 
of  kodak  pictures  as  witnesses  and  records  of  the 
many  camps  and  battues  of  this  sportsman— all  gath- 
ered in  that  same  wild  region  of  big  game,  as  much  as 
fifty  or  a  hundred  miles  away,  but  referred  to  in  the 
Buitenzorg  neighborhood  as  New  York  sportsmen 


134     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

used  to  speak  of  the  buffalo  country— "  the  south 
coast"  and  "out  West,"  equally  synonyms  for  all 
untamed,  far-away  wildness.  Elephant-hunting  must 
be  enjoyed  in  Sumatra,  since  that  animal  has  never 
existed  in  a  wild  state  in  Java. 

With  the  younger  people  of  the  master's  family,  his 
young  managers  and  assistants,  fresh  from  Amster- 
dam schools  and  European  universities,  speaking 
English  and  several  other  languages,  au  courant  with 
all  the  latest  in  the  world's  music,  art,  literature,  and 
drama,  plantation  lif e  and  table-talk  were  full  of  inter- 
est and  varied  amusements.  By  a  whir  of  the  tele- 
phone, two  of  the  assistants  were  bidden  ride  over 
from  their  far  corner  of  the  estate  for  dinner,  and 
afterward  a  quartet  of  voices  and  instruments  made 
the  marble-floored  music-room  ring,  while  the  elder 
men  smoked  meditatively,  or  clicked  the  billiard-balls 
in  their  deliberate,  long-running  tourney.  The  latest 
books  and  the  familiar  American  magazines  strewed 
boudoir  and  portico  tables,  and  naturally  there  was 
talk  of  them. 

"  Ah,  we  like  so  much  your  American  magazines— 
the  '  Century '  and  the  others.  We  admire  so  much 
the  pictures.  And  then  all  those  stories  of  the  early 
Dutch  colonists  at  Manhattan !  We  like,  too,  your 
great  American  novelists— Savage,  Howells,  Gunter— 
( The  Rise  of  Silas  Lapham/  <  Mr.  Potter  of  Texas,' 
and  all  those.  We  read  them  so  much." 

They  were  undoubtedly  disappointed  that  we  did 
not  speak  Dutch,  or  at  least  read  it,  since  all  Holland- 
ers know  that  Dutch  is  the  language  of  the  best  fami- 
lies in  New  York,  of  the  cultivated  classes  and  all 


SINAGAR  136 

polite  society  in  the  United  States,  since  from  the 
mynheers  of  Manhattan  came  the  first  examples  of  re- 
fined living  in  the  New  World.  "  The  English  colo- 
nists were  of  all  sorts,  you  know,  like  in  Australia," 
said  our  informants  at  Buitenzorg  and  everywhere 
else  on  the  island,  "  and  that  is  why  you  Americans 
are  all  so  proud  of  your  Dutch  descent." 


XI 

PLANTATION   LIFE 

FTER  the  sunrise  cup  of  coffee  at  Sina- 
gar— such  coffee  as  we  had  dreamed  of 
and  confidently  expected  to  enjoy,  but 
never  did  encounter  anywhere  else  in 
Java— all  the  men  of  the  household  ap- 
peared in  riding-gear,  and  were  off  to  inspect  and 
direct  work  in  the  many  gardens  and  sections  of  the 
estate.  The  ladies  took  us  for  a  walk  across  the  tea- 
fields  to  the  great  landmark  of  a  Sinagar  palm,  which 
gave  the  name  to  the  estate,  and  from  which  lookout 
we  could  view  the  miles  of  luxuriant  fields  between  it 
and  Parakan  Salak's  group  of  white  houses,  and  also, 
chief  feature  in  every  view,  the  splendid  blue  slopes 
and  summit  of  Salak  clear  cut  against  a  sky  of  the 
palest,  most  heavenly  turquoise.  It  was  a  very  dream 
of  a  tropic  morning,  and  a  Java  tea-garden  seemed 
more  than  ever  an  earthly  paradise. 

Tea-bushes  covered  thousands  of  acres  around  and 
below  us,  as  the  ground  dropped  away  from  that 
commanding  ridge,  their  formal  rows  decreasing  in 
perspective  until  they  shaded  the  landscape  like  a  fine 

136 


PLANTATION  LIFE  137 

line-engraving.  For  mile  after  mile  one  could  walk 
in  direct  line  between  soldierly  files  of  tea-bushes— 
Chinese,  Assam,  and  hybrids.  The  Chinese  plant,  de- 
scended by  generations  from  that  same  wild  bush  dis- 
covered in  Assam  near  the  Yunnan  frontier  by  English 
botanists  in  1834,  has,  by  centuries  of  cultivation,  been 
brought  to  grow  in  low,  compact  little  mats,  or  mere 
rosettes  of  bushes.  It  has  a  thick,  woody  stem, 
gnarled  and  twisted  like  any  dwarf  tree,  and  some  of 
the  Chinese  tea-bushes  at  Sinagar  are  fifty  or  sixty 
years  of  age,  the  pioneers  and  patriarchs  of  their  kind 
in  Java,  original  seedlings  and  first  importations  from 
China.  The  Assam  or  wild  Himalayan  tea-plant  is 
a  tall  spindling  bush  with  large,  thin  leaves,  and 
grafted  on  Chinese  stock  produces  the  tall  hybrid 
commonly  grown  in  the  tea-gardens  of  Java.  The 
red  soil  of  these  gardens  is  always  being  raked  loose 
around  the  tea-plants,  and  at  every  dozen  or  twenty 
feet  a  deep  hole,  or  trench,  is  dug  to  admit  air  and 
water  more  freely  to  the  roots.  Constant  care  is  given 
lest  these  little  open  graves,  or  air-holes,  fill  up  after 
heavy  rains,  and  not  a  weed  nor  a  stray  blade  of  grass 
is  allowed  to  invade  these  prim,  orderly  gardens  and 
rob  the  soil  of  any  of  its  virtues.  Each  particular 
bush  is  tended  and  guarded  as  if  it  were  the  rarest 
ornamental  exotic,  and  the  tea-gardens,  with  their 
broad  stripings  of  green  upon  the  red  ground,  and 
skeleton  lines  of  palms  outlining  the  footpaths  and 
the  divisional  limits  of  each  garden,  are  like  a  formal 
exhibit  of  tea-growing,  an  exposition  model  on  gigan- 
tic scale,  a  fancy  farmer's  experimental  show-place. 
In  the  unending  summer  of  the  hill-country  there 


JAVA:  THE  GARDES  OF  THE  EAST 

is  no  "tea  season,"  no     I  loaf."  "first  pickings," 

or  u  fire-fly  crop,"  as  in  China  and  Japan.  Two  years 
after  the  young  seedling  has  been  transplanted  to  the 
formal  garden  rows  its  leaves  may  be  gathered ;  and 
there  are  new  leaves  every  day,  so  that  picking,  cur- 
ing,, firing,  and  packing  continue  the  year  round.  The 
tea-pickers,  mostly  women,  gather  the  leaves  only 
when  the  plants  are  free  from  dew  or  rain.  They 
pick  nith  the  lightest  touch  of  thumb  and  finger, 
beeping  the  leaves  on  a  square  cloth  spread  on  the 
ground,  and  then  tying  up  the  bundle  and  "  toting  ** 
it  off  on  their  heads,  for  all  the  world  like  the 
colored  aunties  of  our  southern  states.  The  bright 
colors  of  their  Jackets  and  sarongs,  and  of  their  bun- 
dles, that  look  fike  exaggerated  bandana  turbans,  give 
gay  and  picturesque  relief  to  the  green-striped  gar- 
dens, whose  exact  lines  converge  in  long,  monotonous 
perspective  whichever  way  one  looks.  There  is  great 
fascination  in  watching  these  bobbing  figures  among 
the  bushes  gradually  converge  to  single  lines,  and  the 
procession  of  lank,  slender  sarongs  file  through  the 
gardens,  down  the  avenues  of  palm  and  tamarind,  to 
the  f  abrik. 

The  long,  red-tiled  buildings  of  the  fabrik,  in  their 
order  and  speckless  neatness,  with  the  array  of  ingeni- 
ous and  intelligent  machines,  seem  yet  more  like  part 
of  an  exposition  exhibit— a  small  machinery  hall  of 
some  great  international  industrial  aggregation.  The 
picking  and  the  processes  of  converting  the  tea-leaves 
into  the  green,  oolong,  and  black  teas  of  commerce, 
and  of  packing  them  into  large  and  small,  air-tight, 
leaded  packages  for  export,  occupy,  at  the  most,  but 


PLANTATION  LIFE  141 

two  days  in  ordinary  working  seasons.  Less  green 
tea  is  sold  each  year,  and  soon  the  entire  Java  crop  of 
tea  will  be  cured  to  the  half  black,  or  oolong,  and  the 
standard  black  tea,  which  alone  can  find  sale  in  Eng- 
land or  in  Russia,  the  largest  and  most  critical  tea- 
consuming  countries  of  Europe.  An  especially  fine 
black  tea  is  made  at  these  Preanger  tea-fabriks,  and 
for  this  the  green  leaves  are  first  exposed  to  the  sun 
in  wicker  trays  for  wilting,  then  rolled  by  machinery 
to  free  the  juices  in  the  leaf-cells,  and  fermented  in 
heaps  for  four  or  eight  hours,  until  by  their  turning 
a  dark  reddish  brown  there  is  evidence  that  the  rank 
theine,  the  active  principle  or  stimulating  alkaloid  in  the 
leaves,  has  been  oxidized,  and  so  modified  into  some- 
thing less  injurious  to  human  nerves  and  the  digestive 
system.  The  bruised  red  leaves  are  dried  in  a  machine 
where  hot  blasts  and  revolving  fans  make  quick, 
clean  work  of  the  "firing,"  that  perspiring  coolies  do 
by  hand  over  charcoal  pans  in  China  and  Japan.  All 
the  sifting,  sorting,  packing,  and  labeling,  the  pressing 
of  the  broken  leaves  and  dust  into  bricks,  go  on  as 
neatly,  swiftly,  and  surely ;  and  the  cases  are  hauled 
away  to  the  railway-station  and  shipped  from  Batavia 
to  their  special  markets.  The  leaves  to  be  made  into 
green  teas  are  given  a  first  toasting,  almost  as  they 
come  in  from  the  bushes,  are  rolled  on  great  trays 
ranged  on  tables  in  an  open  court,  and  fired  again, 
and  more  thoroughly,  before  packing.  As  the  taste 
of  the  world's  tea-drinkers  becomes  more  cultivated, 
green  tea  will  lose  favor,  and  the  Java  tea-fabriks  will 
be  employed  in  directly  competing  with  the  factories 
of  India  and  Ceylon,  from  whose  culture  experiments 


142     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

they  have  profited,  and  whose  ingenious  machines  they 
have  so  generally  adopted  for  curing  and  preparing 
black  teas.  Often  the  profuse  "flushing"  of  the  tea- 
bushes  forces  the  f abrik  to  run  all  night  to  dispose  of 
the  quantity  of  fresh  leaves ;  and  one  gets  an  idea  of 
the  world's  increasing  consumption  of  tea  in  this 
quarter  of  a  century  since  Java,  India,  and  Ceylon 
entered  into  competition  in  the  tea-trade  with  China 
and  Japan.  Parakan  Salak  teas  are  advertised  and 
sold  in  Shanghai  and  Yokohama,  and  the  appeal  to 
those  great  tea-marts  is  significant  of  a  progressive 
spirit  in  Java  trade,  that  is  matched  by  the  threat 
that  petroleum  from  Java's  oil-wells  will  soon  compete 
seriously  with  American  and  Russian  oil. 

The  coffee  harvest  is  a  fixed  event  in  the  plantation's 
calendar,  and  occurs  regularly  in  April  and  May,  at 
the  close  of  the  rainy  season.  Now  that  the  finer 
Arabian  shrub  has  been  so  largely  replaced  by  the 
hardy  Liberian  tree,  coffee-culture  is  a  little  less  ardu- 
ous than  before.  The  berries  are  brought  to  the 
mill,  husked  by  machinery,  washed,  dried  on  concrete 
platforms  in  the  sun,  sacked,  and  shipped  to  Batavia, 
and  nothing  more  is  heard  of  that  crop  until  the  next 
spring  comes  around.  The  trees  are  carefully  tended 
and  watched,  of  course,  throughout  the  year,  and 
scrutinized  closely  for  any  sign  of  scale  or  worm, 
bug  or  blight.  The  glowing  red  volcanic  soil  is  always 
being  weeded  and  raked  and  loosened,  the  trees 
trimmed,  young  plants  from  the  great  nursery  of  seed- 
lings set  out  in  place  of  the  old  trees,  and  the  coffee 
area  extended  annually  by  clearings. 

The  Sundanese  who  live  in  their  ornamental  little 


PLANTATION  LIFE  143 

fancy  baskets  of  houses  beneath  Sinagar's  tall  tama- 
rinds and  kanari-trees  are  much  to  be  envied  by  their 
people.  The  great  estate  is  a  world  of  its  own,  an 
agricultural  Arcadia,  where  life  goes  on  so  happily 
that  it  is  most  appropriate  that  they  should  have 
presented  model  Javanese  village  life  at  the  Chicago 
Exposition  in  1893.  These  little  Sinagar  villagers 
have  their  frequent  passers  on  one  side  or  the  other 
of  the  demesne  by  turn,  with  theater  and  wayang- 
wayang,  or  puppet-shows,  lasting  far  into  the  night. 
Professional  raconteurs  thrill  them  with  classic  tales 
of  their  glorious  past,  while  musicians  make  sweet, 
sad  melodies  to  rise  from  gamelan,  or  gambang  Itayu, 
from  fiddle,  drum,  bowls,  bells,  and  the  sonorous 
alang-alang—&  rude  instrument  of  most  ancient  origin, 
made  of  five  or  eight  graduated  bamboo  tubes,  cut 
like  organ-pipes,  and  hung  loosely  in  a  frame,  which, 
shaken  by  a  master  hand,  or  swinging  in  the  breeze 
from  some  tree-branch,  produces  the  strangest,  most 
weird  and  fascinating  melodies  in  all  the  East. 

The  play  of  village  life  about  Sinagar  is  so  prettily 
picturesque,  so  well  presented  and  carried  out,  that  it 
seems  only  a  theatrical  representation — a  Petit  Tria- 
non sort  of  affair  at  the  least.  The  smiling  little 
women,  who  rub  and  toss  tea-leaves  over  the  wilting- 
trays  at  the  fabrik,  seem  only  to  be  playing  with  the 
loose  leaves  like  a  larger  sort  of  intelligent,  careful 
children.  In  the  same  way  the  plucking  in  the  tea- 
gardens  and  the  march  to  the  fabrik  in  long,  single 
file,  with  bundles  balanced  on  their  heads,  are  mere 
kindergarten  exercises  to  develop  the  muscles  of  the 
back  and  secure  an  erect  and  graceful  carriage— the 


144     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

secret,  perhaps,  of  their  splendid  bearing,  although  all 
Javanese  walk  as  kings  and  queens  are  supposed  to 
walk,  as  the  result  of  not  being  hampered  by  useless 
garments,  and  thus  having  control  of  every  member 
and  muscle  of  the  body  from  earliest  years.  The 
same  supple  ease  and  grace  distinguish  their  manners 
too,  and  one  young  planter  said :  "  After  living  a  few 
years  among  these  gentle,  graceful,  winning  natives, 
you  cannot  know  how  Europe  jarred  upon  me.  All 
the  hard,  sad,  scowling  faces  and  the  harsh,  angry 
voices  oppressed  me  and  made  me  so  homesick  for 
Java  that  I  was  really  glad  to  turn  away  from  it.  I 
never  before  was  so  aware  of  the  poverty,  misery,  dis- 
tress, and  vice  of  Europe." 

Visitors  to  the  Paris  Exposition  of  1889  and  the 
Chicago  Exposition  of  1893  had  a  typical  model  Java- 
nese village  set  before  them,  and  all  were  unstinted 
in  their  praises  of  the  mise  en  scfaie  and  the  human 
features  of  the  exhibit.  The  Chicago  village  was 
peopled  by  families  from  the  Sinagar  and  Parakan 
Salak  estates,  and,  as  a  purely  ethnological  exhibit, 
was  the  one  success  of  that  kind  among  the  many 
trifling  side-shows  that  detracted  from  the  character 
of  the  Midway  Plaisance.  The  trip  to  America  was 
the  prize  and  reward  allotted  to  the  most  industrious 
and  deserving  villagers,  who  with  their  properties  and 
industrial  accessories  filled  two  sailing-ships  from 
Batavia  to  Hong  Kong,  whence  they  took  steamer  to 
San  Francisco  and  railway  across  the  continent  to 
Chicago.  There  was  a  large  outlay  required  at  the 
start,  and  the  best  workmen  were  away  from  the 
estates  for  a  year  j  and  between  a  dishonest  shipping- 


PLANTATION  LIFE  145 

agent  at  Batavia  and  the  heavy  commissions  upon  all 
receipts  levied  by  the  exposition's  managers  at  Chi- 
cago, and  the  free  admissions  which  those  same  gener- 
ous American  managers  bestowed  so  widely,  the  village 
did  not  nearly  pay  its  current  expenses,  and  the  ven- 
ture stands  as  an  entire  loss,  or  a  gift  to  the  American 
people  from  the  two  public-spirited  Preanger  planters 
who  paid  for  it. 

The  good  little  Javanese  who  went  to  Chicago  re- 
turned from  their  great  outing  as  simple  and  unspoiled 
as  before,  settled  down  contentedly  under  their  kanari- 
trees,  and  resumed  their  routine  life  in  field  and  fabrik. 
And  what  tales  they  had  to  tell  to  open-mouthed  vil- 
lagers and  neighbors,  who  sat  around  the  traveled 
ones,  to  the  neglect  of  wayang-wayang  and  provincial 
professional  story-tellers,  listening  to  their  accounts 
of  the  very  remarkable  things  on  that  other  side  of 
the  world !  For  the  first  time  ever  in  their  lives  these 
Javanese  saw  white  men  at  work  in  the  fields,  drudg- 
ing in  city  streets,  and  doing  every  kind  of  menial, 
coolie  labor.  They  saw  a  few  black  men,  blacker  than 
Moormen,  but  they  were  great  personages,  wearing 
fine  uniforms  and  having  command  of  the  railway- 
trains,  and  riding  in  the  most  magnificently  gilded 
cars— individuals  treated  always  with  great  respect, 
who  came  to  the  Midway  Plaisance  in  rich  clothing, 
with  gold  watch-chains,  jeweled  scarf-pins,  and  much 
loose  money  in  their  pockets— a  superior  and  a 
moneyed,  if  not  the  ruling  class,  in  that  topsy-turvy 
country,  America. 

A  striped  cat  of  the  common  roof-and-fence  variety 
was  given  to  one  of  the  village  managers,  and  made 


146     JAVA:  THE  GABDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  journey  back  to  Java  with  the  party.  Everything 
else  in  Chicago  had  been  paid  for  so  dearly  that  this 
tabby  could  be  fairly  said  to  represent  the  entire 
profit  and  result  of  the  Chicago  village  venture.  The 
cat  was  named  "  Chicago,"  and  soon  became  the  pet  of 
the  whole  plantation,  roaming  freely  everywhere,  and 
feasting  on  small  rice-mice  and  tropical  birds.  "  Chi- 
cago "  came  to  us  on  our  arrival,  rubbed  in  friendly 
fashion  against  one  and  another  American  knee,  and 
purred  loudly,  as  if  recognizing  us  for  compatriots. 
The  morning  we  left  Sinagar  there  was  hubbub  and 
running  to  and  fro  in  the  great  quadrangle  of  the 
residence.  "Chicago,"  while  walking  the  well-curb 
with  gesticulating  tail,  had  lost  her  balance,  and  with 
frightful  cries  and  a  splash  ended  her  existence — by 
unpleasant  coincidence,  just  as  we  were  making  our 
farewells  to  our  kindly  host.  "  In  despair  at  being 
unable  to  return  to  America  with  you,"  said  one 
mourner,  "  she  has  thrown  herself  in  the  well.  It  is 
plainly  suicide."  And  this  domestic  tragedy  saddened 
our  leave-taking  from  those  charming  people,  the  fine 
flavor  of  whose  hospitality,  courtesy  and  kindliness 
took  the  edge  from  many  of  our  disagreeable  expe- 
riences in  Java,  and  gave  us  pleasant  memories  with 
which  to  offset  those  of  the  other  kind. 


XII 


ACROSS  THE  PREANGER  REGENCIES 

NE  may  ride  all  day  by  train  from  Bui- 
tenzorg  before  reaching  the  limits  of 
the  Preanger  regencies,  where  native 
princes  still  hold  pretended  sway;  and 
it  is  a  continuous  landscape  feast  from 
the  sunrise  start  to  the  sunset  halt  of  the  through- 
train.  The  railway  line,  after  curving  around  the 
shoulder  of  Salak,  runs  through  the  vaunted  hill-coun- 
try, the  region  of  the  great  tea,  coffee,  and  kina  estates ; 
and  from  Soekaboemi  to  Bandong,  the  two  great 
headquarters  for  planters,  one  perceives  that  the 
planter  is  paramount,  the  cultivator  is  king.  The 
new  cultures  have  not  dispossessed  the  old,  however, 
and  the  sawas,  or  flooded  rice-fields,  break  the  level  of 
plain  and  valley  floor  with  their  myriad  waving  lines 
of  division,  and  climb  by  terraces  to  the  very  hilltops 
— a  system  of  cultivation  and  irrigation  as  old  as  the 
human  race,  and  followed  in  these  same  valleys  by 
these  same  Sundanese  since  the  beginning  of  their 
recorded  time.  To  them  rice  is  a  holy  grain,  the  off- 
spring of  a  god,  and  the  gods'  best  gift  to  man ;  a 

147 


148    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

grain  both  cultivated  and  worshiped.  It  argues  for 
the  industry  of  a  tropical  race  that  they  should  grow 
this  troublesome  grain  at  all,  the  grain  that  demands 
more  back-breaking  toil  and  constant  attention  from 
planting  to  harvest-time  than  any  other  grain  which 
grows.  It  would  seem  discouraging  to  rice-cultiva- 
tion, too,  when  in  old  times  the  natives  were  taxed  ac- 
cording to  the  area  of  their  rice-lands  only,  and 
mulcted  of  a  fifth  of  their  rice  when  it  was  harvested 
—all  in  this  happy  land,  where  they  might  sit  under 
the  breadfruit-  and  banana-trees  and  doze  at  their 
ease,  while  those  kindly  fruits  dropped  in  their  laps. 
These  picturesque  rice-fields  have  won  for  Java  the 
name  of  "  the  granary  of  the  East,"  and  enabled  it  to 
export  that  grain  in  quantities,  besides  supporting  its 
own  great  population,  one  of  the  densest  in  the  world, 
and  averaging  four  hundred  and  fifty  inhabitants  to 
each  square  mile.  No  fertilizer  of  any  kind  is  applied 
to  these  irrigated  rice-fields,  save  to  burn  over  and 
plow  under  the  rich  stubble,  after  the  padi,  or  ripe 
ears  of  grain,  have  been  cut  singly  with  a  knife  and 
borne  away  in  miniature  sheaves  strung  on  carrying- 
poles  across  the  peasants'  shoulders. 

Beyond  the  region  of  the  great  plantations,  where 
every  hillside  is  cleared  and  planted  up  to  the  kina  limit, 
and  only  the  summits  and  steepest  slopes  are  left  to 
primeval  jungle,  there  succeed  great  stretches  of  wild 
country,  where  remarkable  engineering  feats  were  re- 
quired of  the  railway-builders.  With  two  heavy  en- 
gines the  train  .climbs  to  Tjandjoer  station,  sixteen 
hundred  feet  above  the  sea ;  and  there,  if  one  has  tele- 
graphed the  order  ahead,  he  may  lunch  at  ease  in  his 


ACROSS  THE  PREANGEB  REGENCIES          149 

compartment  as  the  train  goes  on.  He  may  draw  from 
the  three-storied  lunch-basket  handed  in  either  a  sub- 
stantial riz  tavel,  consisting  of  a  little  of  everything 
heaped  upon  a  day's  ration  of  boiled  rice,  or  a  "  tiffin," 
whose pitoe  de  resistance  is  a  huge  bifstek  mit  ard  appelen, 
that  would  satisfy  the  cravings  of  any  three  dragoons. 
Either  feast  is  followed  by  bread  or  bananas,  with  a 
generous  section  of  a  cheese,  with  mangosteens  or 
other  fruits,  and  one  feels  that  he  has  surely  reached 
the  land  of  plenty  and  solid,  solid  comforts,  where 
fate  cannot  harm  him— when  all  this  may  be  handed 
in  to  fleeting  tourists  at  a  florin  and  a  half  apiece. 

After  this  station  of  abundant  rations,  all  signs  of 
cultivation  and  occupancy  disappear,  and  the  station 
buildings  and  the  endless  lantana-hedges  along  the 
railway-track  are  the  only  signs  of  human  habitation 
or  energy  in  the  wilderness  of  hills  covered  with  alang- 
alang  or  bamboo-grass,  and  the  coarse  glagah  reeds 
which  cattle  will  not  touch.  The  banteng,  the  one- 
horned  rhinoceros,  and  the  tigers  that  used  to  roam 
these  moors,  fled  when  the  shriek  of  the  locomotive 
was  heard  in  the  canons,  and  the  sportsmen  have  to 
seek  such  big  game  in  the  jungles  and  grass-lands  of 
the  south  coast.  The  streams  that  come  cascading 
down  from  all  these  green  heights  have  carved  out 
some  beautiful  scenery,  and  the  Tjitaroem  River, 
foaming  in  sight  for  a  while,  disappears,  runs  through 
a  mountain  by  a  natural  tunnel,  and  reappears  in 
a  deep  gorge,  of  which  one  has  an  all-too-exciting 
view  as  the  train  crosses  on  a  spidery  viaduct  high 
in  air. 

A  great,  fertile  green  plain  surrounds  the  native 


150     JAVA:  THE  GAEDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

capital  of  Bandong,  and  on  its  confines  rises  the  Tang- 
koeban-Praoe,  the  Ararat  of  the  natives,  who  see  in 
its  square  summit-lines  the  reversed  praoe  in  which 
their  ancestors  survived  the  flood,  and,  turning  their 
boat  over  carefully  to  dry,  descended,  as  the  waters 
fell,  to  people  the  Malay  universe.  One  may  ascend 
the  butte-like  peak,  passing  up  first  through  a  belt  of 
old  coffee-plantations,  whose  product  ranked  first  in 
the  good  old  days  before  the  blight,  and  by  the  villa 
and  experimental  grounds  of  Herr  Junghuhn,  the 
botanist,  who  first  succeeded  with  the  kina-culture 
and  introduced  so  many  other  economic  plants  and 
trees  to  the  island.  At  Lembang,  ten  miles  from 
Bandong,  the  mountain-climber  gives  up  his  pony  or 
carriage,  and  is  carried  in  a  djoelie,  or  sedan-chair, 
through  a  magnificent  jungle  to  the  edge  of  the  open 
crater,  where  bubbling  sulphur-pools  in  an  ashy  floor, 
and  a  wide  view  over  the  fertile  valley,  are  sufficient 
reward  for  all  exertion  on  the  climber's  part. 

Bandong  itself,  as  the  capital  of  the  Preanger  re- 
gencies and  the  home  of  the  native  regent  and  the 
Dutch  resident,  is  a  place  of  great  importance  to  both 
races.  The  regent,  as  a  mere  puppet  and  pensioner  of 
the  colonial  government,  supports  the  shadow  of  his 
old  state  and  splendor  in  a  large  ddlem,  or  palace,  in 
the  heart  of  the  town.  He  has  also  a  suburban  villa 
in  European  style,  to  which  are  attached  large  racing- 
stables,  and  this  progressive  regent  is  a  regular  cup- 
winner  at  the  Buitenzorg  and  Bandong  races  at  every 
summer,  or  dry-season,  meet,  when  the  "good  mon- 
soon "  inspires  all  the  islanders  to  their  greatest  social 
exertions. 


ACROSS  THE  PREANGER  REGENCIES          151 

As  one  gets  farther  into  the  center  of  the  island, 
native  life  becomes  more  picturesque,  and  every  sta- 
tion platform  offers  one  more  diverting  study.  There 
is  more  color  in  costume,  and  the  wayside  and  plat- 
form groups  are  kaleidoscopic  with  their  gay  sarongs 
and  kerchiefs.  More  men  are  seen  wearing  the  mili- 
tary jacket  of  rank  with  the  native  sarong,  and  the 
boat-handled  kris  thrust  in  the  belt  at  the  back.  The 
little  children,  who  ride  astride  of  their  mothers'  hips 
and  cling  and  cuddle  so  confidingly  in  the  slandang's 
folds,  seem  of  finer  mold,  and  their  deep,  dark  Hindu 
eyes  tell  of  a  different  strain  in  the  Malay  blood  than 
we  had  seen  on  the  coast— these  the  Javanese,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  Sundanese.  The  clumsy  buffalo, 
or  water-ox,  is  everywhere,  plowing  the  fields,  wallow- 
ing in  mud,  or  browsing  the  stubble  patch  after  the 
gleaners,  always  with  a  patient,  statuesque,  nude  little 
brown  boy  on  his  blue-gray  back,  the  fine,  polished 
skins  of  these  small  herders  glowing  in  the  sun  as  if 
they  were  inanimate  bronze  figurines. 

The  train  climbs  very  slowly  from  Bandong  to 
Kalaidon  Pass,  and,  after  toiling  with  double  engines 
up  the  steep  grades,  it  rests  at  a  level,  and  there  bursts 
upon  one  the  view  of  the  plain  of  Leles— the -fairest 
of  all  tropical  landscapes,  a  vision  of  an  ideal  prom- 
ised land,  and  such  a  dream  of  beauty  that  even  the 
leaden  blue  clouds  of  a  rainy  afternoon  could  not 
dim  its  surpassing  loveliness.  The  railway  follows  a 
long  shelf  hewn  high  on  the  mountain  wall,  that  en- 
circles an  oval  plain  set  with  two  conical  mountains 
that  rise  more  than  two  thousand  feet  above  the  level 
of  this  plain  of  Leles,  itself  two  thousand  feet  above 


152     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  level  of  the  sea.  The  finely  wrought  surface  of 
the  plain— networked  with  the  living  green  dikes  and 
terraces  of  rice-fields,  which,  flooded,  gleam  and  glit- 
ter in  the  fitful  sun-rays,  or,  sown  and  harvested, 
glow  with  a  mosaic  of  green  and  gold— is  one  ex- 
quisite symphony  in  color,  an  arrangement  in  greens 
that  holds  one  breathless  with  delight.  All  the  golden 
greens  of  rice  seed-beds,  the  intense,  vivid  greens  of 
young  rice  transplanted,  the  opaque  and  darker  greens 
of  advanced  crops,  and  the  rich  tones  of  stubble  are 
relieved  by  the  clumps  and  masses  of  palms  and  fine- 
leaved  trees,  which,  like  islands  or  mere  ornamental 
bits  of  shrubbery,  are  disposed  with  the  most  admirable 
effect  to  be  attained  by  landscape  art.  Each  of  these 
tufted  clumps  of  trees,  foregrounded  with  broad,  trans- 
lucent banana-leaves,  declares  the  presence  of  toy  vil- 
lages, where  the  tillers  of  the  plain,  the  landscape- 
farmers,  and  the  artist-artisans  have  woven  and  set 
up  their  pretty  basketry  homes.  A  masterpiece,  a 
central  ornament  or  jewel,  to  which  the  valley  is  but 
the  fretted  and  appropriate  setting,  a  very  altar  of 
agriculture,  a  colossal  symbol  and  emblem  of  abun- 
dance, is  the  conical  Goenong-Kalaidon,  a  mountain 
which  rises  three  thousand  feet  from  the  level  of  the 
plain,  and  is  terraced  all  the  way  from  base  to  summit 
with  narrow  ribbons  of  rice-fields— the  whole  moun- 
tain mass  etched  with  myriad  fine  green  lines  of  ver- 
dure, wrinkled  around  and  around  with  the  curving 
parapets  and  tiny  terraces  that  retain  the  flooded 
hanging  gardens.  Beyond  this  amazing  piece  of  agri- 
cultural sculpture  stands  Goenong-Haroeman,  a  more 
perfect  pyramid,  a  still  rarer  trophy  of  the  landscape- 


ACROSS  THE  PEEANGER  REGENCIES          153 

farmer's  art,  even  more  finely  carved  in  the  living 
green  lines  of  ancient  terrace-culture.  The  rush  of 
the  thousand  rills,  dropping  from  one  tiny  terrace  to 
another,  fills  the  air  with  a  peculiar  singing  undertone, 
an  eerie  accompaniment  that  adds  the  last  magic  touch 
to  the  fascination  of  the  plain  of  Leles.  Hardly  the 
miles  of  sculptured  bas-reliefs  on  Boro  Boeder  and 
Brambanam  temple  walls  make  them  any  more  im- 
pressive as  monuments  and  records  of  human  toil 
than  these  great  green  pyramids  of  Kalaidon  and 
Haroeman,  on  which  human  labor  has  been  lavished 
for  all  the  seasons  of  uncounted  generations— the 
ascending  lines,  the  successive  steps  of  the  great  green 
staircases  of  rice-terraces,  recording  ages  of  toil  as 
plainly  as  the  rings  within  a  tree-trunk  declare  its 
successive  years  of  growth. 

The  railway,  dipping  nearly  to  the  level  of  the  plain 
as  it  describes  a  great  curve  around  the  gloriously 
green  Kalaidon,  again  ascends  along  the  side  of  the 
mountain  wall,  loops  itself  around  the  Haroeman 
pyramid,  and  halts  at  the  station  of  Leles.  From  that 
point  one  has  a  backward  view  over  the  enchanting 
picture  (a  line  of  white  bridges  and  culverts  marking 
the  path  of  the  railway  along  the  mountain-side)  and 
he  looks  directly  across  at  the  soft  green  slopes  of 
Haroeman,  which  faces  him— that  vast  green  dome  or 
pyramid,  which  is  a  little  world  in  itself,  with  un- 
counted villages  nestling  under  clumps  of  palm-trees 
that  break  the  lines  of  singing  terraces,  and  those 
peasants  of  the  hanging  gardens  looking  down  upon 
the  most  pleasing  prospect,  the  most  beautiful  land- 
scape in  all  Java,  which  should  be  world-famous,  and 


154     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

whose  charm  it  is  as  impossible  to  exaggerate  as  to 
describe. 

The  sesquipedalian  names  of  the  railway-stations 
throughout  the  Preanger  regencies,  are  something  to 
fill  a  traveler's  mind  between  halts,  and  almost  explain 
why  the  locomotives  not  only  toot  and  whistle  nearly 
all  the  time  they  are  in  motion,  but  stand  on  the 
track  before  station  sign-boards  and  shriek  for  minutes 
at  a  time,  like  machines  demented.  Eadjamendala  is 
an  easy  arrangement  in  station  names  for  the  early 
hours  of  the  trip,  and  all  that  family  of  names— Tjit- 
joeroek,  Tjibeber,  Tjirandjang,  Tjipenjeum,  Tjitjalen- 
ka,  and  also  Tagoogapoe — will  slip  from  the  tongue 
after  a  few  trials ;  but  when  one  strains  his  eyes  to- 
ward the  limits  of  the  plain  of  Leles,  he  may  almost 
see  the  houses  of  Baloeboer-Baloeboer-Limbangan. 
People  actually  live  there  and  pay  taxes,  and  it  is  my 
one  regret  that  I  did  not  leave  the  train,  drive  over, 
and  have  some  letters  postmarked  with  that  astonish- 
ing aggregation  of  sound-symbols.  Only  actual  sight, 
too,  could  altogether  convince  one,  that  one  small 
village  of  metal-workers  could  really  support  so  much 
nomenclature  together  with  any  amount  of  profitable 
trade.  In  the  intervals  of  practising  the  pronuncia- 
tion of  that  particular  geographic  name,  the  artisans 
of  Baloeboer-Baloeboer-Limbangan  do  hammer  out 
serviceable  gongs,  bowls,  and  household  utensils  of 
brass  and  copper.  In  earlier  times  Baloeboer-Baloe- 
boer-Limbangan was  the  Toledo  of  the  isles,  and  the 
kris-blades  forged  there  had  finer  edge  than  those 
from  any  other  place  in  the  archipelago.  In  these 
railroad  and  tramp-steamer  days  of  universal,  whole- 


ACROSS  THE  PEEANGER  REGENCIES          155 

sale  trade  rivalry,  the  blade  of  the  noble  kris  more 
often  comes  from  abroad,  and  the  chilled  edges  from 
Birmingham  or  those  made  in  Germany  have  dis- 
placed the  blades  made  at  the  edge  of  the  plain  of 
Leles,  and  the  glory  of  Baloeboer-Baloeboer-Limban- 
gan  has  departed. 


xm 

"TO  TISSAK  MALAYA !w 

IHE  sun  fell  at  six  o'clock,  and  in  the 
.  ^|  fast-gathering  twilight  of  the  tropics  the 
Jl  train  shrieked  past  Tjihondje  and  Rad- 

""  japolah,  stopped  but  a  minute  at  Indihi- 
ang,  and  panted  into  Tissak  Malaya  like 
an  affrighted  creature,  to  put  up  for  the  night.  We 
were  whirled  through  avenues  of  pitch-darkness,  with 
illuminated  porticos  gleaming  through  splendid  shrub- 
beries, to  the  passagrahan,  or  government  rest-house. 
At  first  we  thought  the  Parthenon  had  been  restored 
and  whitened,  and  leased  to  some  colonial  landlord, 
or  at  least  that  we  had  come  to  the  deserted  summer 
palace  of  some  great  sovereign,  so  lofty  were  the  col- 
umns, so  enormous  the  shining  white  portico  before 
which  the  sadoes  halted.  Quite  feudal  and  noble  we 
felt  ourselves,  too,  when  the  sadoe-drivers  crouched 
on  their  heels  in  that  abject  position  of  the  dodok,  or 
squatting  obeisance,  and  when  they  raised  the  coins 
to  their  foreheads  in  a  reverent  simbah,  or  worshipful 
thanksgiving.  Truly  we  were  reaching  the  heart  of  a 
strange  country,  and  experiences  were  thickening ! 

156 


"TO  TISSAK  MALAYA!"  157 

The  passagrahan  was  an  object  for  sight-seers  by 
itself.  The  great  open  space  under  the  portico  was 
the  usual  living-room,  with  huge  tables,  reading-lamps, 
and  lounging-  and  arm-chairs  fitted  for  a  giant's  ease. 
A  grand  hallway  running  straight  through  the  center 
of  the  building  held  the  scattered  and  massive  furni- 
ture of  a  banquet-hall.  Bedrooms  with  latticed  doors 
opened  from  either  side  of  this  noble  hall,  the  least 
of  these  chambers  twenty  feet  square,  with  ceilings 
twenty  feet  high ;  while  the  beds,  measuring  seven  by 
nine  feet,  suggested  Brobdingnagian  nightmares  to 
match. 

At  nine  o'clock  we  followed  a  silent,  beckoning 
Malay  with  a  lantern  off  into  pitch-darkness,  down  a 
deserted  street,  around  a  hedge,  to  a  smaller  white 
portico  with  lamps  and  rocking-chairs  and  center- 
tables.  We  were  dazed  as  we  came  suddenly  into  the 
glare  of  lights ;  and  the  other  guests  at  the  table  d'hote 
of  the  little  hotel  viewed  us  as  they  would  have  viewed 
sudden  arrivals  by  balloon. 

"  From  America !  To  Tissak  Malaya !  "  they  all 
exclaimed,  and  we  almost  apologized  for  having  come 
so  far.  There  was  an  amiable  and  charming  young 
Dutch  woman  in  the  company,  who,  speaking  English, 
benefited  all  her  compatriots  with  the  details  of  our 
present  itinerary,  our  past  lives  and  mutual  relation- 
ships, after  each  little  conversational  turn  she  took 
with  us. 

Having  commanded  a  sunrise  breakfast  for  the  next 
morning,  we  followed  the  lantern  and  the  silent  Malay 
back  through  blackness  to  our  illuminated  Parthenon 
of  a  passagrahan,  and  had  entomological  excitement 


158     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

and  entertainment  for  an  hour,  while  all  the  strange 
flying  things  filled  the  air  and  strewed  the  table  be- 
neath the  lamps.  The  usual  lizards  chuck-chucked 
and  called  for  "Becky"  in  the  shadows,  and  thin 
wraiths  of  lizards  ran  over  the  great  columns  and 
walls ;  but  a  house-front  that  was  not  decorated  with 
lizards  would  be  the  strangest  night  sight  in  Java. 
When  we  had  laid  ourselves  out  on  the  state  cata- 
falques in  the  great  bedrooms,  stealthy  whisperings 
and  rustlings  of  palm-trees  beyond  the  latticed  windows, 
other  strange  sounds,  and  startled  bird-calls  through- 
out the  night  suggested  the  great  snakes  we  had  ex- 
pected to  encounter  daily  and  nightly  in  Java.  The 
tiny  light  floating  in  a  tumbler  of  cocoanut-oil  threw 
weird  shadows  over  the  walls,  and  within  the  bed-cur- 
tains one  had  space  to  dance  a  quadrille  or  arrange  a 
whole  set  of  ordinary  bedroom  furniture,  while  the 
open  construction  of  the  upper  partition- walls  let  one 
converse  at  will  with  the  occupant  of  the  farthest 
apartment. 

In  the  first  clear  light  of  the  dewy  morning  we 
saw  that  a  beautiful  garden  surrounded  the  pas- 
sagrahan,  and  our  vast  Parthenon  of  the  darkness  did 
not  seem  so  colossal  when  seen  in  the  shadow  of  the 
magnificent  kanari-trees  that  shaded  the  street  before 
it.  While  lost  in  admiration  of  this  splendid  aisle  of 
shade-trees,  I  saw  a  solitary  pedestrian  coming  down 
the  green  avenue,  just  the  pygmy  touch  of  human  life 
needed  to  complete  the  picture  and  give  one  measure 
for  the  soaring  tree-trunks  and  vast  canopy  of  leaves. 
The  slender  figure,  advancing  with  the  splendid,  slow 
stride  of  these  people,  was  visible  now  in  a  glorifying 


"TO  TISSAK  MALAYA!"  161 

shaft  of  earliest,  level  yellow  sunlight,  and  then  almost 
invisible  against  the  tall  hibiscus-hedges  or  the  green 
shadows  of  tree-trunks.  A  nearer  flash  of  sunlight 
gilded  a  tray  he  was  carrying — a  tray  furnished  with 
three  small  cups  of  coffee  and  a  plate  with  six  thin 
wafers  of  toast,  which,  well  cooled  by  the  long  prome- 
nade in  the  fresh  air  of  the  morning,  constituted  the 
breakfast  of  three  able-bodied  travelers,  who  were  to 
pass  the  rest  of  the  day  on  the  train,  with  only  oppor- 
tunity for  a  sandwich  lunch  before  the  evening's  nine- 
o'clock  dinner.  We  sent  back  those  thimble  cups,  and 
they  were  refilled  with  the  same  lukewarm,  indefinite, 
muddy  gray  fluid ;  but  finally,  by  personal  exertions 
and  a  hasty  trip  down  the  magnificent  avenue,  some 
solid  additions  were  secured  to  the  usual  scant,  skele- 
ton, impressionist  breakfast  of  the  country— some 
marmalade,  some  eggs,  and  a  bit  of  the  cold  blue 
meat  of  the  useful  buffalo.  Everywhere  in  Java 
one's  first,  best  instincts  and  finer  feelings  of  the  day 
are  hurt  and  the  appetite  affronted  by  just  such  early 
morning  incidents;  protest  and  prevision  are  alike 
useless,  and  travel  on  the  island  is  beset  with  unneces- 
sary hardships. 

The  semi- weekly  passer  of  Tissak  Malaya  was  then 
beginning  in  a  park,  or  open  market-place,  in  front 
of  the  passagrahan,  and  picturesque  processions  of 
venders  and  buyers  came  straggling  down  the  arched 
avenues,  and  filled  the  shady  quadrangle  with  a  holi- 
day hum.  There  were  double  panoramas  and  stages 
of  living  pictures  along  each  path  in  the  passer  en- 
campment, that  grew  like  magic;  and  the  glowing 
colors  of  the  fruit-,  the  flower-,  and  the  pepper-markets, 


162     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  bright  sarongs  and  turbans,  and,  above  all,  the 
cheerful  chatter,  were  quite  inspiring.  We  bought 
everywhere— fruits,  and  a  queer  three-story  basket  to 
hold  them;  yards  of  jasmine  garlands,  bunches  of 
roses,  and  great  double  handfuls  of  the  green,  linden- 
ish  ylang-ylang  flowers,  pinned  with  a  thorn  in  a 
plantain-leaf  cornucopia— this  last  lot  of  perpetual 
fragrance  for  three  gulden  cents  only.  Odd  bottles 
of  home-made  attars  of  rose  and  jasmine  were  sold  as 
cheaply,  and  gums  in  straw  cases,  ready  for  burning. 
There  was  a  dry-goods  district,  where  booths  were  piled 
high  and  hung  round  with  Cheribon  and  other  gay 
sarongs  of  Middle  Java,  slandangs  and  kerchiefs  of 
strongest  colors  and  intricate  borderings.  We  were 
distracted  with  the  wide  choice  offered,  but  could  not 
rouse  the  phlegmatic  dealers  to  any  eagerness  or  ex- 
citement in  bargaining ;  the  whole  overcharge,  reduc- 
tions, and  slow-descending  fall  in  prices  proceeding, 
on  the  part  of  the  dealers,  with  a  well-assumed  indiffer- 
ence, an  uninterrupted  betel-chewing,  a  bored  and 
lethargic  manner  that  wore  one  sadly.  A  long  row 
of  country  tailors,  thirty  or  forty  of  them  in  a  line, 
sat  like  so  many  sparrows  around  the  edges  of  the 
passer  in  the  comforting  shade  of  the  kanari-trees. 
All  were  spectacled  like  owls,  and  sat  cross-legged  be- 
fore their  little  American  sewing-machines.  The  cus- 
tomers brought  their  cloth,  the  tailors  measured  them 
with  the  eye,  and  in  no  time  at  all  the  machines  were 
humming  up  and  down  the  seams  of  the  jackets,  that 
needed  no  fitting  nor  trying  on,  and  were  made  while 
the  candidates  sat  and  smoked  and  chatted  with  the 
sartorial  artists.  From  the  chatter-chatter  along  this 


"TO  TISSAK  MALAYA!"  163 

tailors'  row  one  might  conclude  that  what  the  barbers 
are  to  Seville,  as  purveyors  of  news,  the  tailors  are  to 
Tissak  Malaya. 

All  too  soon  we  had  to  tear  ourselves  away  from 
the  fascinating  passer,  and,  loaded  down  with  our 
mixed  marketing,  fly  by  sadoe  to  the  station  at  the 
far  end  of  town.  We  saw  then  the  magnificent  aisle 
of  kanari-trees  we  had  passed  through  in  darkness  the 
night  before— an  avenue  more  fitted  for  an  emperor's 
triumphal  procession  than  for  our  queer  little  two- 
wheeled  carts,  drawn  each  by  a  mite  of  a  pony, 
that  was  all  but  lifted  from  the  ground  by  the  shafts 
when  I  stepped  on  the  after  foot-board  untimely,  the 
driver  dodoking  like  a  hop-toad  on  the  ground  in  re- 
spectful humility.  The  natives  were  streaming  down 
the  great  alUe  and  in  from  all  the  side  streets  and  by- 
paths toward  the  passer,  and  we  half  wished  we  might 
miss  the  train  when  we  realized  what  a  spectacle  that 
Tissak  Malaya  passer  was  about  to  be. 

In  Middle  Java,  where  the  railway  descends  from 
the  Preanger  hills  to  the  terra  ingrata's  succession  of 
jungle  and  swamp  at  the  coast-level,  one  experiences 
the  same  dull,  heavy,  sickening,  depressing  heat  as  in 
Batavia.  After  the  clear,  fresh,  mildly  cool  air,  the 
eternal  southern-California  climate  of  the  hills,  this 
sweltering  atmosphere  gave  full  suggestion  of  the 
tropics'  deadly  perils.  Hour  after  hour  the  train  fol- 
lowed a  raised  embankment  across  an  endless  swamp, 
the  brilliantly  flowered  lantana-hedges  still  accompany- 
ing the  tracks,  and  a  dense  forest  wall,  tangled  and 
matted  together  with  ratans  and  other  creepers,  shut- 
ting off  the  view  on  either  side.  The  malaria  and  the 


164    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

deadly  fever-germs  that  haunt  this  region  were  almost 
visible,  so  dense  was  the  air.  While  this  section  of 
the  railway  was  building,  even  the  native  workmen 
were  carried  back  each  day  to  sleep  in  camps  in  safer 
neighborhoods.  No  white  man  could  work,  nor  re- 
main there  directing  work,  and  Chinese,  who  are 
germ-,  bacillus-,  microbe-,  and  miasma-proof  in  every 
climate,  superintended  work  between  the  flying  visits 
of  European  engineers.  Beside  these  tangled  and 
noisome  swamps  there  are  quicksand  regions,  into 
which  car-loads  of  solid  materials  were  dumped  for 
week  after  week,  and  where  the  track  is  still  always 
being  raised  and  rebuilt,  and  the  floating  earth-crust 
trembles  with  each  passing  train. 

As  we  coursed  along  past  those  miles  of  rankest 
vegetation,  not  a  waft  of  perfume  reached  us,  nor  did 
any  mass  of  color  or  cloak  of  blossoms  delight  the  eye 
—a  green  monotony  of  uninteresting  vegetation,  save 
for  the  ratan-palms  which  decorated  every  tree  with 
their  beautiful  pinnate  leaves.  There  was  one  luxu- 
riant vine,  half  covering  a  tall  tree,  which  bore  clusters 
of  large  white  blossoms  and  pendent  red  berries ;  but 
that  was  the  one  ideal  vine  of  the  imagined  tropical 
jungle's  mad  riot  of  stranger  and  more  gorgeous  things 
than  bougainvillea.  No  clouds,  cascades,  or  festoons 
of  gorgeous  flowers,  no  waves  of  overpowering  per- 
fume, no  masses  of  orchids,  rewarded  eager  scrutiny ; 
no  birds  of  brilliant  plumage  flashed  across  the  jungle's 
front ;  no  splendidly  striped  tigers  licked  their  chops 
and  snarled  in  the  jungle's  shade;  no  rhinoceros 
snorted  at  the  iron  horse ;  and  not  a  serpent  raised  a 
hissing  head,  slid  away  through  dank  grass,  or  looped 


"TO   TISSAK  MALAYA!"  165 

itself  from  tree-top  to  tree-top  in  proper  tropical  fash- 
ion, as  we  steamed  across  the  deadly,  uninhabitable 
terra  ingrata.  Nor  had  even  the  first  construction 
gangs  of  railway-builders  met  with  any  such  sensa- 
tional incidents,  so  the  chief  engineer  of  the  railways 
afterward  informed  us.  Seeing  our  disappointment 
and  dejection,  this  obliging  official  racked  his  memory 
and  at  last  recalled  that  he  himself  had  once  seen  a 
wild  peacock  walking  the  track  in  the  terra  ingrata. 

"And  yes!  so  there  was.  I  remember  now  that 
one  of  our  engineers,  who  was  running  a  special  loco- 
motive along  there,  did  see  a  tiger  sitting  on  the  track. 
He  whistled  loudly,  and  the  tiger  trotted  up  the  track 
until  he  found  the  engine  gaining  on  him,  and  then 
the  royal  beast  bounded  off  into  the  jungle,  snarling 
and  spitting  like  an  angry  cat." 

"  But  there  are  great  snakes  in  the  swamps  surely? 
You  must  run  over  them  often  ? "  we  persisted. 

"  Doubtless ;  but  we  rarely  see  snakes  here  in  Java. 
There  are  many  in  Borneo,  Sumatra,  and  the  other 
islands  that  are  so  wild  yet.  But  you  will  see  them 
all  at  the  zoological  garden  in  Batavia." 

Closer  questioning  could  only  elicit  the  statement 
that,  while  all  the  terrible  Java  snake-stories  we  had 
read  might  be  true,  we  had  no  need  in  this  modern 
day  to  shake  the  pillows  gently  each  night  and  morn- 
ing to  dislodge  the  sleeping  cobra  or  python ;  nor  to 
draw  the  bed-curtains  closely  at  sounds  like  dry  leaves 
blowing  over  the  floor;  nor  to  regard  the  harmless 
hop-toad  as  the  certain  pilot  and  advance-guard  of  a 
snake.  I  almost  began  to  doubt,  to  discredit  that 
standard  favorite,  that  typical  tropical  snake-story  of 


166    JAVA:  THE  GAEDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  man  who  fell  asleep  on  the  edge  of  a  Java  sawa, 
or  rice-field,  and  waking  with  a  sensation  of  great 
dampness  around  one  knee,  found  that  a  huge  but 
harmless  sawa  snake  had  swallowed  his  leg  to  that 
point.  I  was  ready  even  to  hear  that  there  never  had 
been  any  skeleton-strewn,  deadly  upas-tree  valley  on 
Papandayang's  slope,  since  every  expected  sensation 
had  fled  my  approach— had  removed  to  Borneo,  to 
Sulu,  to  more  remote  and  impossible  islands. 

All  travel,  though,  is  only  such  disillusionment  and 
disappointment,  and  he  who  would  believe  and  enjoy 
blood-curdling  things  should  stay  by  his  own  fireside. 
The  disillusioned  traveler  has  but  to  choose,  on  his 
return,  whether  he  will  truthfully  dispel  others'  fond- 
est illusions,  or,  joining  that  nameless  club  of  so  many 
returned  travelers,  continue  to  clothe  the  more  distant 
parts  of  the  world  with  the  glamour  of  imagination. 


XIV 

PRISONERS  OF  STATE  AT  BORO  BOEDOR 

jHE  fact  is  not  generally  appreciated  that 
there  are  ruins  of  Buddhist  and  Brah- 
manic  temples  in  Middle  Java  surpass- 
ing in  extent  and  magnificence  anything 
to  be  seen  in  Egypt  or  India.  There, 
in  the  heart  of  the  steaming  tropics,  in  that  summer 
land  of  the  world  below  the  equator,  on  an  island 
where  volcanoes  cluster  more  thickly  and  vegetation 
is  richer  than  in  any  other  region  of  the  globe,  where 
earthquakes  continually  rock  and  shatter,  and  where 
deluges  descend  during  the  rainy  half  of  the  year,  re- 
mains nearly  intact  the  temple  of  Boro  Boeder,  cover- 
ing almost  the  same  area  as  the  Great  Pyramid  of  Gizeh. 
It  is  ornamented  with  hundreds  of  life-size  statues  and 
miles  of  bas-reliefs  presenting  the  highest  examples  of 
Greco-Buddhist  art— a  sculptured  record  of  all  the 
arts  and  industries,  the  culture  and  civilization,  of  the 
golden  age  of  Java,  of  the  life  of  the  seventh,  eighth, 
and  ninth  centuries  in  all  the  farther  East— a  record 
that  is  not  written  in  hieroglyphs,  but  in  plainest  pic- 
tures carved  by  sculptor's  chisel.  That  solid  pyramidal 

167 


168    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

temple,  rising  in  magnificent  sculptured  terraces,  that 
was  built  without  mortar  or  cement,  without  column 
or  pillar  or  arch,  is  one  of  the  surviving  wonders  of 
the  world.  On  the  spot  it  seems  a  veritable  miracle. 
It  is  one  of  the  romances  of  Buddhism  that  this 
splendid  monument  of  human  industry,  abandoned 
by  its  worshipers  as  one  cult  succeeded  another,  and 
forgotten  after  the  Mohammedan  conquest  imposed 
yet  another  creed  upon  the  people,  should  have  disap- 
peared completely,  hidden  in  the  tangle  of  tropical 
vegetation,  a  formless,  nameless,  unsuspected  mound 
in  the  heart  of  a  jungle,  lost  in  every  way,  with  no 
part  in  the  life  of  the  land,  finally  to  be  uncovered  to 
the  sight  of  the  nineteenth  century.  When  Sir  Stam- 
ford Raffles  came  as  British  governor  of  Java  in  1811, 
the  Dutch  had  possessed  the  island  for  two  centuries, 
but  in  their  greed  for  gulden  had  paid  no  heed  to  the 
people,  and  knew  nothing  of  that  earlier  time  before 
the  conquest  when  the  island  was  all  one  empire,  the 
arts  and  literature  flourished,  and,  inspired  by  Hindu 
influence,  Javanese  civilization  reached  its  highest 
estate ;  nor  did  the  Hollander  allow  any  alien  investi- 
gators to  peer  about  this  profitable  plantation.  Sir 
Stamford  Raffles,  in  his  five  years  of  control,  did  a 
century's  work.  He  explored,  excavated,  and  surveyed 
the  rained  temples,  and  searching  the  voluminous 
archives  of  the  native  princes,  drew  from  the  mass  of 
romantic  legends  and  poetic  records  the  first  "  History 
of  Java."  His  officers  copied  and  deciphered  inscrip- 
tions, and  gradually  worked  out  all  the  history  of  the 
great  ruins,  and  determined  the  date  of  their  erection 
at  the  beginning  of  the  seventh  century. 


PRISONERS  OF  STATE  AT  BORO  BOEDOR  169 

At  this  time  Sir  Stamford  wrote :  "  The  interior  of 
Java  contains  temples  that,  as  works  of  labor  and  art, 
dwarf  to  nothing  all  our  wonder  and  admiration  at  the 
pyramids  of  Egypt."  Then  Alfred  Russel  Wallace 
said :  "  The  number  and  beauty  of  the  architectural  re- 
mains in  Java  .  .  .  far  surpass  those  of  Central  Amer- 
ica, and  perhaps  even  those  of  India."  And  of  Boro 
Boeder  he  wrote :  "  The  amount  of  human  labor  and 
skill  expended  on  the  Great  Pyramid  of  Egypt  sinks 
into  insignificance  when  compared  with  that  required 
to  complete  this  sculptured  hill-temple  in  the  interior 
of  Java."  Herr  Brumund  called  Boro  Boeder  "  the 
most  remarkable  and  magnificent  monument  Bud- 
dhism has  ever  erected  " ;  and  Fergusson,  in  his  "  His- 
tory of  Indian  and  Eastern  Architecture,"  finds  in  that 
edifice  the  highest  development  of  Buddhist  art,  an 
epitome  of  all  its  arts  and  ritual,  and  the  culmination 
of  the  architectural  style  which,  originating  at  Barhut 
a  thousand  years  before,  had  begun  to  decay  in  India 
at  the  time  the  colonists  were  erecting  this  masterpiece 
of  the  ages  in  the  heart  of  Java. 

There  is  yet  no  Baedeker,  or  Murray,  or  local  red 
book  to  lead  one  to  and  about  the  temples  and  present 
every  dry  detail  of  fact.  The  references  to  the  ruins 
in  books  of  travel  and  general  literature  are  vague  or 
cautious  generalities,  absurd  misstatements,  or  guesses. 
In  the  great  libraries  of  the  world's  capitals  the  ar- 
chaeologists' reports  are  rare,  and  on  the  island  only 
Dutch  editions  are  available.  Fergusson  is  one's  only 
portable  guide  and  aid  to  understanding ;  but  as  he 
never  visited  the  stupendous  ruin,  his  is  but  a  formal 
record  of  the  main  facts.  Dutch  scientists  criticize 


170    JAVA:  THE  GAKDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

Sir  Stamford  Baffles's  work  and  all  that  Von  Hum- 
boldt  and  Lassen  deduced  from  it  concerning  Javanese 
religion  and  mythology.  They  entirely  put  aside  all 
native  histories  and  traditions,  searching  and  accept- 
ing only  Chinese  and  Arabic  works,  and  making  a 
close  study  of  ancient  inscriptions,  upon  the  rendering 
of  which  few  of  the  Dutch  savants  agree. 

We  had  applied  for  new  toelatings-kaarten,  or  ad- 
mission tickets,  to  the  interior  of  the  island;  and  as 
they  had  not  arrived  by  the  afternoon  before  we  in- 
tended leaving  Buitenzorg,  we  drove  to  the  assistant 
resident's  to  inquire.  "  You  shall  have  them  this  even- 
ing," said  that  gracious  and  courtly  official,  standing 
beside  the  huge  carriage ;  "  but  as  it  is  only  the  merest 
matter  of  form,  go  right  along  in  the  morning,  ladies, 
anyhow,  and  I  shall  send  the  papers  after  you  by  post. 
To  Tissak  Malaya  ?  No  f  Well,  then,  to  Djokjakarta." 

Upon  that  advice  we  proceeded  on  our  journey, 
crossed  the  Preangers,  saw  the  plain  of  Leles,  and 
made  our  brief  visit  to  Tissak  Malaya.  We  rode 
for  a  long,  hot  day  across  the  swamps  and  low-lying 
jungles  of  the  terra  ingrata  of  Middle  Java,  and  just 
before  sunset  we  reached  Djokjakarta,  a  provin- 
cial capital,  where  the  native  sultan  resides  in  great 
state,  but  poor  imitation  of  independent  rulership. 
We  had  tea  served  us  under  the  great  portico  of  the 
Hotel  Toegoe,  our  every  movement  followed  by  the 
uncivilized  piazza  stare  of  some  Dutch  residents— that 
gaze  of  the  summer  hotel  that  has  no  geographic  or 
racial  limit,  which  even  occurs  on  the  American  lit- 
toral, and  in  Java  has  a  fixedness  born  of  stolid  Dutch 
ancestry,  and  an  intensity  due  to  the  tropical  fervor 


PRISONERS  OP  STATE  AT  BORO  BOEDOR  171 

of  the  thermometer,  that  put  it  far  beyond  all  other 
species  of  unwinking  scrutiny.  The  bovine,  ruminant 
gaze  of  those  stout  women,  continued  and  continued 
past  all  provincial-colonial  curiosity  as  to  the  cut  and 
stuff  of  our  gowns,  drove  us  to  the  garden  paths,  al- 
ready twinkling  with  fireflies.  The  landlord  joined 
us  there,  and  strolled  with  us  out  to  the  street  and 
along  a  line  of  torch-lighted  booths  and  shops,  where 
native  products  and  native  life  were  most  picturesquely 
presented.  Our  landlord  made  himself  very  agreeable 
in  explaining  it  all,  walked  on  as  far  as  the  gates  of 
the  sultan's  palace,  plying  us  with  the  most  point- 
blank  personal  questions,  our  whence,  whither,  why, 
for  how  long,  etc. ;  but  we  did  not  mind  that  in  a 
land  of  stares  and  interrogative  English.  He  showed 
us  the  carriage  we  could  have  for  the  next  day's 
twenty-five-mile  drive  to  Boro  Boeder— "if  you  go," 
with  quite  unnecessary  emphasis  on  the  phrase  of 
doubt.  He  finally  brought  us  back  to  the  portico, 
disappeared  for  a  time,  and  returning,  said :  "  Ladies, 
the  assistant  resident  wishes  to  meet  you.  Will  you 
come  this  way  ? "  And  the  courteous  one  conducted 
us  through  lofty  halls  and  porticos  to  his  own  half- 
office  parlor,  all  of  us  pleased  at  this  unexpected  atten- 
tion from  the  provincial  official. 

A  tall,  grim,  severe  man  in  the  dark  cloth  clothes  of 
ceremony,  with  uniform  buttons,  waved  a  semi-mili- 
tary cap,  and  said  curtly :  "  Ladies,  it  is  my  duty  to  in- 
form you  that  you  have  no  permission  to  visit  Djokja." 

It  took  some  repetitions  for  us  to  get  the  whole  sen- 
sation of  the  heavens  suddenly  falling  on  us,  to  learn 
that  a  telegram  had  come  from  official  headquarters 


172    JAVA:  THE  GABDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

at  Buitenzorg  to  warn  him  that  three  American  ladies 
would  arrive  that  afternoon,  without  passports,  to 
visit  Djokja. 

"Certainly  not,  because  those  Buitenzorg  officials 
told  us  not  to  wait  for  the  passports— that  they  would 
mail  them  after  us."  Then  ensued  the  most  farcical 
scene,  a  grand  burlesque  rendering  of  the  act  of  ap- 
prehending criminals,  or  rather  political  suspects.  The 
assistant  resident  tried  to  maintain  the  stern,  judicial 
manner  of  a  police-court  magistrate,  cross-examining 
us  as  closely  as  if  it  were  testimony  in  a  murder  trial 
we  were  giving,  and  was  not  at  all  inclined  to  admit 
that  there  could  be  any  mistake  in  the  elaborately 
perfect  system  of  Dutch  colonial  government.  Mag- 
nificently he  told  us  that  we  could  not  remain  in 
Djokja,  and  we  assured  him  that  we  had  no  wish  to 
do  so,  that  we  were  leaving  for  Boro  Boeder  in  the 
morning.  The  Pickwickian  message  from  Buitenzorg 
had  not  given  any  instructions.  It  merely  related  that 
we  should  arrive.  We  had  arrived,  and  the  assistant 
resident  evidently  did  not  know  just  what  to  do  next. 
At  any  rate,  he  intended  that  we  should  stand  in  awe 
of  him  and  the  government  of  Netherlands  India. 
He  "  supposed  "  that  it  was  intended  that  we  should 
be  sent  straight  back  to  Buitenzorg.  "We  demurred, 
in  fact  refused— the  two  inflammable,  impolitic  ones 
of  us,  who  paid  no  heed  to  the  gentle,  gray-haired 
elder  member  of  our  party,  who  was  all  resignation 
and  humility  before  the  terrible  official.  We  pro- 
duced our  United  States  passports,  and  quite  as  much 
as  told  him  that  he  and  the  noble  army  of  Dutch 
officials  might  finish  the  discussion  with  the  Amer- 


PRISONERS  OF  STATE  AT  BORO  BOEDOR  173 


ican  consul ;  we  had  other  affairs,  and  were  bound  for 
Boro  Boedor.  He  waved  the  United  States  passports 
aside,  curtly  said  they  were  of  "  no  account,"  examined 
the  letters  of  credit  with  a  shade  more  of  interest,  and 
gave  his  whole  attention  to  my  "  Smithsonian  pass- 
port," or  general  letter  "to  all  friends  of  science." 
That  beautifully  written  document,  with  its  measured 
phrases,  many  polysyllabic  words  in  capital  letters,  and 
the  big  gold  seal  of  Saint-Gaudens's  designing,  worked 
a  spell ;  and  after  slowly  reading  all  the  commendatory 
sentences  of  that  great  American  institution  "  for  the 
increase  and  diffusion  of  knowledge  among  men,"  he 
read  it  again : 

"  Hum-m-m !  Hum-m-m !  The  Smithsonian  Insti- 
tution of  Washington— National  Geographic  Society 
—scientific  observation  and  study— anthropology— 
photography— G.  Brown  Goode,  acting  secretary! 
Ah,  ladies,  since  you  have  such  credentials  as  this," 
—evidently  the  Smithsonian  Institution  has  better 
standing  abroad  than  the  Department  of  State,  and 
G.  Brown  Goode,  acting  secretary  of  the  one,  was  a 
better  name  to  conjure  with  away  from  home  than 
Walter  Q.  Gresham,  actual  secretary  of  the  other,— 
"  since  you  come  so  highly  commended  to  us,  I  will 
allow  you  to  proceed  to  Boro  Boedor,  and  remain  there 
while  I  report  to  Buitenzorg  and  ask  for  instructions. 
You  will  go  to  Boro  Boedor  as  early  as  possible  in  the 
morning,"  he  commanded,  and  then  asked,  "  How  long 
had  you  intended  to  remain  there  ?  " 

"  That  depends.  If  it  is  comfortable,  and  the  rains 
keep  off,  we  may  stay  several  days.  If  not,  we  return 
to-morrow  evening." 


174     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

"  No,  no,  no ! "  he  cried  in  alarm ;  "  you  must  stay 
there  at  Boro  Boeder.  You  have  no  permission  to 
visit  Djokja,  and  I  cannot  let  you  stay  in  my  resi- 
dency. You  must  stay  at  Boro  Boedor  or  go  back  to 
Buitenzorg." 

To  be  ordered  off  to  the  Buddhist  shrine  at  sunrise 
put  the  pilgrimage  in  quite  another  light ;  to  be  sen- 
tenced to  Nirvana  by  a  local  magistrate  in  brass 
buttons  was  not  like  arriving  there  by  slow  stages— 
meditation  and  reincarnation;  but  as  the  assistant 
resident  seemed  to  be  on  the  point  of  repenting  his 
clemency,  we  acquiesced,  and  the  great  man  and  his 
minions  drove  away,  the  bearer  of  the  pajong,  or  official 
umbrella  of  his  rank,  testifying  to  the  formal  char- 
acter of  the  visit  he  had  been  paying.  Tho  landlord 
mopped  his  brow,  sighed,  and  looked  like  one  who  had 
survived  great  perils ;  and  we  then  saw  that  his  sight- 
seeing stroll  down  the  street  with  us  had  been  a  ruse, 
a  little  clever  scouting,  a  preliminary  reconnaissance 
for  the  benefit  of  the  puzzled  magistrate. 

We  left  Djokja  at  sunrise,  with  enthusiasm  some- 
what dampened  from  former  anticipations  of  that 
twenty-five -mile  drive  to  Boro  Boedor,  "the  aged 
thing"  in  the  Boro  district  of  Kedu  Residency,  or 
Bara  Budha,  "  Great  Buddha."  We  had  expected  to 
realize  a  little  of  the  pleasure  of  travel  during  the 
barely  ended  posting  days  on  this  garden  island,  net- 
worked over  with  smooth  park  drives  all  shaded  with 
tamarind-,  kanari-,  teak-,  and  waringen-trees,  and  it 
proved  a  half-day  of  the  greatest  interest  and  enjoy- 
ment. Our  canopied  carriage  was  drawn  by  four  little 
rats  of  ponies,  driven  by  a  serious  old  coachman  in  a 


PRISONERS  OF  STATE  AT  BORO  BOEDOR  175 

gay  sarong  and  military  jacket,  with  a  huge  lacquered 
vizor  or  crownless  hat  tied  on  over  his  battek  turban, 
like  a  student's  exaggerated  eye-shade.  This  gave  the 
shadow  of  great  dignity  and  owlish  wisdom  to  his 
wrinkled  face,  ornamented  by  a  mustache  as  sparsely 
and  symmetrically  planted  as  walrus  whiskers.  He 
held  the  reins  and  said  nothing.  When  there  was  any- 
thing to  do,  the  running  footman  did  it— a  lithe  little 
creature  who  clung  to  a  rear  step,  and  took  to  his 
heels  every  few  minutes  to  crack  the  whip  over  the 
ponies'  heads,  and  with  a  frenzied  "  Gree !  G-r-r-ee/ 
Gr-r-r-e-e-e! "  urge  the  mites  to  a  more  breakneck 
gallop  in  harness.  He  steered  them  by  the  traces  as 
he  galloped  beside  them,  guided  them  over  bridges, 
around  corners,  past  other  vehicles,  and  through 
crowds,  while  the  driver  held  the  reins  and  chewed 
betel  tobacco  in  unconcerned  state.  We  rocked  and 
rolled  through  beautiful  arched  avenues,  with  this 
bare-legged  boy  in  gay  petticoat  "gr-r-ree-ing"  us 
along  like  mad,  people  scattering  aside  like  frightened 
chickens,  and  kneeling  as  we  passed  by.  The  way  was 
fenced  and  hedged  and  finished,  to  each  blade  of  grass, 
like  some  aristocratic  suburb  of  a  great  capital,  an 
endless  park,  or  continuous  estate,  where  fancy  farm' 
ing  and  landscape-gardening  had  gone  their  most  ex* 
travagant  lengths.  There  was  not  a  neglected  acre  on 
either  side  for  all  the  twenty-five  miles ;  every  field 
was  cultivated  like  a  tulip-bed;  every  plant  was  as 
green  and  perfect  as  if  entered  in  a  horticultural  show. 
Streams,  ravines,  and  ditches  were  solidly  bridged, 
each  with  its  white  cement  parapet  and  smooth  con- 
crete flooring,  and  each  numbered  and  marked  with 
10 


176    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

Dutch  preciseness;  and  along  every  bit  of  the  road 
were  posted  the  names  of  the  kampongs  and  estates 
charged  to  maintain  the  highway  in  its  perfect  con- 
dition. Telegraph-  and  telephone-wires  were  strung 
on  the  rigid  arms  of  cotton-trees,  and  giant  creepers 
wove  solid  fences  as  they  were  trained  from  tree-trunk 
to  tree-trunk— the  tropics  tamed,  combed,  and  curbed, 
hitched  to  the  cart  of  commerce  and  made  man's  ab- 
ject servant. 

Every  few  miles  there  were  open  red-tiled  pavilions 
built  over  the  highways  as  refuges  for  man  and  beast 
from  the  scorching  sun  of  one  season  and  the  cloud- 
burst showers  of  the  rainy  half  of  the  year.  Twice 
we  found  busy  passers  going  on  in  groves  beside  these 
rest-houses—picturesque  gatherings  of  men,  women, 
and  children,  and  displays  of  fowls,  fruits,  nuts,  vege- 
tables, grain,  sugar,  spices,  gums,  and  flowers,  that 
tempted  one  to  linger  and  enjoy,  and  to  photograph 
every  foot  of  the  passer's  area.  The  main  road  was 
crowded  all  the  way  like  a  city  street,  and  around 
these  passers  the  highway  hummed  with  voices.  One 
can  believe  in  the  density  of  the  population— 450  to 
the  square  mile1— when  he  sees  the  people  trooping 
along  these  country  roads ;  and  he  can  well  under- 
stand why  every  foot  of  land  is  cultivated,  how  even 
in  the  benevolent  land  of  the  banana  every  one  must 
produce  something,  must  work  or  starve.  The  better 
sanitary  condition  of  the  native  kampongs  is  given  as 

1  Holland  has  a  population  of  359  to  the  square  mile  (Decem- 
ber 31,  1892),  and  Belgium  a  population  of  540  to  the  square 
mile.  French  statisticians  are  confident  that  Java  will  soon 
surpass  Belgium  in  the  density  of  its  population. 


WAYSIDE   PAVILION   ON   TOST-KOAD. 


PRISONERS  OF  STATE  AT  BORO  BOEDOR  179 

a  great  factor  in  the  remarkable  increase  of  population 
in  the  last  half -century ;  but  it  took  many  years  of 
precept  and  example,  strict  laws,  and  a  rating  of  native 
rulers  and  village  chiefs  according  to  the  cleanliness 
of  their  kampongs,  before  the  native  hamlets  became 
tropical  counterparts  of  Broek  and  the  other  absurdly 
clean  towns  of  Holland.  These  careless  children  of 
the  tropics  are  obliged  to  whitewash  their  houses  twice 
a  year,  look  to  their  drains  and  debris,  and  use  disin- 
fectants ;  and  with  the  dainty  little  basket  houses,  one 
of  which  may  be  bought  outright  for  five  dollars,  and 
the  beautiful  palms  and  shrubberies  to  serve  as  screens 
from  rice-field  vapors,  each  little  kampong  is  a  delight 
in  every  way. 

Men  and  boys  toiled  to  the  passer,  bent  over  with 
the  weight  of  one  or  two  monstrous  jack-fruits  or 
durians  on  their  backs.  A  woman  with  a  baby 
swinging  in  the  slandang  over  her  shoulder  had 
tied  cackling  chickens  to  the  back  of  her  belt,  and 
trudged  on  comfortably  under  her  umbrella ;  and  a  boy 
swung  a  brace  of  ducks  from  each  end  of  a  shoulder- 
pole,  and  trotted  gaily  to  the  passer.  The  kampongs, 
or  villages,  when  not  hidden  in  palm-  and  plantain- 
groves  behind  fancy  bamboo  fences,  were  rows  of 
open  houses  on  each  side  of  the  highway,  and  we  re- 
viewed native  life  at  leisure  while  the  ponies  were 
changed.  The  friendly,  gentle  little  brown  people 
welcomed  us  with  amused  and  embarrassed  smiles 
when  our  curiosity  as  to  sarong-painting,  lacquering, 
and  mat- weaving  carried  us  into  the  family  circle. 
The  dark,  round-eyed,  star-eyed  babies  and  children 
showed  no  fear  or  shyness,  and  the  tiniest  ones— their 


180    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

soft  little  warm  brown  bodies  bare  of  ever  a  garment 
save  the  cotton  slandang  in  which  they  cuddle  so  con- 
fidingly under  the  mother's  protecting  arm— let  us  lift 
and  carry  and  play  with  them  at  will. 

We  left  the  main  road,  and  progressed  by  a  nar- 
rower way  between  open  fields  of  pepper,  manioc,  in- 
digo, and  tobacco,  with  picturesque  views  of  the  three 
symmetrical  and  beautiful  mountains,  Soembung, 
Merbaboe,  and  Merapi— the  first  and  largest  one  as 
pure  in  line,  as  exquisite  and  ideal  a  peak,  as  Fujiyama, 
and  the  others  sloping  splendidly  in  soft  volcanic  out- 
lines. Soembung  is  the  very  center  of  Java,  and  na- 
tive legends  cling  to  the  little  hill  of  Tidar  at  its  base 
—the  "  spike  of  the  universe,"  the  nail  which  fastens 
the  lovely  island  to  the  face  of  the  earth.  Merbaboe, 
the  "  ash-ejecting,"  has  wrought  ruin  in  its  time,  and 
a  faint  white  plume  of  steam  waves  from  its  summit 
still.  The  capitulations  which  delivered  the  Napo- 
leonic possessions  of  the  Dutch  East  Indies  to  Eng- 
land in  1811  were  signed  at  the  base  of  Merbaboe,  and 
in  our  then  frame  of  mind  toward  the  Dutch  govern- 
ment we  wished  to  make  a  pilgrimage  of  joyous  cele- 
bration to  the  spot.  The  third  of  the  graceful  peaks, 
Merapi,  the  "fire-throwing,"  was  a  sacred  peak  in 
Buddhist  times,  when  cave-temples  were  hewn  in  its 
solid  rock  and  their  interiors  fretted  over  with  fine 
bas-reliefs.  A  group  of  people  transplanting  rice,  a 
little  boy  driving  a  flock  of  geese  down  the  road,  a 
little  open-timbered  temple  of  the  dead  in  a  frangi- 
pani-grove— all  these,  with  the  softly  blue-and-purple 
mountains  in  the  background,  are  pictures  in  enduring 
memory  of  that  morning's  ride  toward  Nirvana. 


PRISONERS  OF  STATE  AT  BORO  BOEDOR     181 

A  gray  ruin  showed  indistinctly  on  a  hilltop,  and 
after  a  run  through  a  long,  arched  avenue  we  came 
out  suddenly  at  the  base  of  the  hill-temple.  Instead 
of  a  mad,  triumphant  sweep  around  the  great  pyramid, 
the  ponies  balked,  rooted  themselves  past  any  lashing 
or  "  gr-r-ree-ing,"  and  we  got  out  and  walked  under  the 
noonday  sun,  around  the  hoary  high  altar  of  Buddha, 
down  an  avenue  of  tall  kanari-trees,  lined  with  statues, 
gargoyles,  and  other  such  recha,  or  remains  of  ancient 
art,  to  the  passagrahan,  or  government  rest-house. 


XV 


BORO  BOEDOR 

[E  deep  portico  of  the  passagrahan  com- 
-j_  -  -«fl  mands  an  angle  and  two  sides  of  the 
'  Jl  scluare  temple,  and  from  the  mass  of 
blackened  and  bleached  stones  the  eye 
finally  arranges  and  follows  out  the 
broken  lines  of  the  terraced  pyramid,  covered  with 
such  a  wealth  of  ornament  as  no  other  one  structure 
in  the  world  presents.  The  first  near  view  is  almost 
disappointing.  In  the  blur  of  details  it  is  difficult  to 
realize  the  vast  proportions  of  this  twelve-century-old 
structure — a  pyramid  the  base  platform  of  which  is 
five  hundred  feet  square,  the  first  terrace  walls  three 
hundred  feet  square,  and  the  final  dome  one  hun- 
dred feet  in  height.  Stripped  of  every  kindly  relief 
of  vine  and  moss,  every  gap  and  ruined  angle  visi- 
ble, there  was  something  garish,  raw,  and  almost  dis- 
ordered at  the  first  glance,  almost  as  jarring  as  new- 
ness, and  the  hard  black-and-white  effect  of  the  dark 
lichens  on  the  gray  trachyte  made  it  look  like  a  bad 
photograph  of  the  pile.  The  temple  stands  on  a  broad 
platform,  aud  rises  first  in  five  square  terraces,  inclos- 

182 


BORO  BOEDOR  185 

ing  galleries,  or  processional  paths,  between  their 
walls,  which  are  covered  on  each  side  with  bas-relief 
sculptures.  If  placed  in  single  line  these  bas-reliefs 
would  extend  for  three  miles.  The  terrace  walls  hold 
four  hundred  and  thirty-six  niches  or  alcove  chapels, 
where  life-size  Buddhas  sit  serene  upon  lotus  cushions. 
Staircases  ascend  in  straight  lines  from  each  of  the 
four  sides,  passing  under  stepped  or  pointed  arches 
the  keystones  of  which  are  elaborately  carved  masks, 
and  rows  of  sockets  in  the  jambs  show  where  wood  or 
metal  doors  once  swung.  Above  the  square  terraces 
are  three  circular  terraces,  where  seventy-two  latticed 
dagobas  (reliquaries  in  the  shape  of  the  calyx  or  bud 
of  the  lotus)  inclose  each  a  seated  image,  seventy-two 
more  Buddhas  sitting  in  these  inner,  upper  circles  of 
Nirvana,  facing  a  great  dagoba,  or  final  cupola,  the 
exact  function  or  purpose  of  which  as  key  to  the 
whole  structure  is  still  the  puzzle  of  archaeologists. 
This  final  shrine  is  fifty  feet  in  diameter,  and  either 
covered  a  relic  of  Buddha,  or  a  central  well  where  the 
ashes  of  priests  and  princes  were  deposited,  or  is  a 
form  surviving  from  the  tree-temples  of  the  earliest, 
primitive  East  when  nature-worship  prevailed.  The 
English  engineers  made  an  opening  in  the  solid  ex- 
terior, and  found  an  unfinished  statue  of  Buddha  on 
a  platform  over  a  deep  well-hole ;  and  its  head,  half 
buried  in  debris,  still  smiles  upon  one  from  the  deep 
cavern.  M.  Freidrich,  in  "  I/Extreme  Orient"  (1878), 
states  that  this  top  dagoba  was  opened  in  the  time  of 
the  resident  Hartman  (1835),  and  that  gold  ornaments 
were  found ;  and  it  was  believed  that  there  were  sev- 
eral stories  or  chambers  to  this  well,  which  reached  to 


186          JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  lowest  level  of  the  structure.  M.  Desire  de  Charnay, 
who  spent  an  afternoon  at  Boro  Boedor  in  1878  in 
studying  the  resemblance  of  the  pyramid  temples  of 
Java  to  those  of  Central  America,  believed  this  well- 
hole  to  be  the  place  of  concealment  for  the  priest  whose 
voice  used  to  issue  as  a  mysterious  oracle  from  the 
statue  itself. 

A  staircase  has  been  constructed  to  the  summit  of 
this  dagoba,  and  from  it  one  looks  down  upon  the 
whole  structure  as  on  a  ground-plan  drawing,  and  out 
over  finely  cultivated  fields  and  thick  palm-groves  to 
the  matchless  peaks  and  the  nearer  hills  that  inclose 
this  fertile  valley  of  the  Boro  Boedor—  "  the  very  finest 
view  I  ever  saw,"  wrote  Marianne  North. 

Three  fourths  of  the  terrace  chapels  and  the  upper 
dagobas  have  crumbled ;  hundreds  of  statues  are  head- 
less, armless,  overturned,  missing ;  tees,  or  finials,  are 
gone  from  the  bell-roofs ;  terrace  walls  bulge,  lean  out- 
ward, and  have  fallen  in  long  stretches ;  and  the  cir- 
cular platforms  and  the  processional  paths  undulate  as 
if  earthquake-waves  were  at  the  moment  rocking  the 
mass.  No  cement  was  used  to  hold  the  fitted  stones  to- 
gether, and  another  Hindu  peculiarity  of  construction 
is  the  entire  absence  of  a  column,  a  pillar,  or  an  arch. 
Vegetation  wrought  great  ruin  during  its  buried  cen- 
turies, but  earthquakes  and  tropical  rains  are  working 
now  a  slow  but  surer  ruin  that  will  leave  little  of  Boro 
Boedor  for  the  next  century's  wonder-seekers,  unless 
the  walls  are  soon  straightened  and  strongly  braced. 

All  this  ruined  splendor  and  wrecked  magnificence 
soon  has  an  overpowering  effect  on  one.  He  almost 
hesitates  to  attempt  studying  out  all  the  details,  the 


BORO  BOEDOR 


187 


intricate  symbolism  and  decoration  lavished  by  those 
Hindus,  who,  like  the  Moguls,  "built  like  Titans, 
but  finished  like  jewelers."  One  walks  around  and 
around  the  sculptured  terraces,  where  the  bas-re- 
liefs portray  all  the  life  of  Buddha  and  his  disciples, 


GROCWD-PLAN  OF  BOEO  BOEDOB. 


and  the  history  of  that  great  religion— a  picture-Bible 
of  Buddhism.  All  the  events  in  the  life  of  Prince 
Siddhartha,  Gautama  Buddha,  are  followed  in  turn : 
his  birth  and  education,  his  leaving  home,  his  medita- 
tion under  Gaya's  immortal  tree,  his  teaching  in  the 


188    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

deer-park,  his  sitting  in  judgment,  weighing  even  the 
birds  in  his  scales,  his  death  and  entrance  into  Nirvana. 
The  every-day  life  of  the  seventh  and  eighth  century  is 
pictured,  too— temples,  palaces,  thrones  and  tombs, 
ships  and  houses,  all  of  man's  constructions,  are  por- 
trayed. The  life  in  courts  and  palaces,  in  fields  and  vil- 
lages, is  all  seen  there.  Royal  folk  in  wonderful  jewels 
sit  enthroned,  with  minions  offering  gifts  and  burning 
incense  before  them,  warriors  kneeling,  and  maidens 
dancing.  The  peasant  plows  the  rice-fields  with  the 
same  wooden  stick  and  ungainly  buffalo,  and  carries 
the  rice-sheaves  from  the  harvest-field  with  the  same 
shoulder-poles,  used  in  all  the  farther  East  to-day. 
Women  fill  their  water- vessels  at  the  tanks  and  bear 
them  away  on  their  heads  as  in  India  now,  and  scores 
of  bas-reliefs  show  the  unchanging  customs  of  the  East 
that  offer  sculptors  the  same  models  in  this  century. 
Half  the  wonders  of  that  great  three-mile-long  gallery 
of  sculptures  cannot  be  recalled.  Each  round  dis- 
closed some  more  wonderful  picture,  some  more  elo- 
quent story,  told  in  the  coarse  trachyte  rock  furnished 
by  the  volcanoes  across  the  valley.  Even  the  humor- 
ous fancies  of  the  sculptors  are  expressed  in  stone. 
In  one  rilievo  a-  splendidly  caparisoned  state  elephant 
flings  its  feet  in  imitation  of  the  dancing-girl  near  by. 
Other  sportive  elephants  carry  fans  and  state  um- 
brellas in  their  trunks;  and  the  marine  monsters 
swimming  about  the  ship  that  bears  the  Buddhist 
missionaries  to  the  isles  have  such  expression  and 
human  resemblance  as  to  make  one  wonder  if  those 
primitives  did  not  occasionally  pillory  an  enemy  with 
their  chisels,  too.  In  the  last  gallery,  where,  in  the 


BOBO  BOEDOE  189 

progress  of  the  religion,  it  took  on  many  features  of 
Jainism,  or  advancing  Brahmanism,  Buddha  is  several 
times  represented  as  the  ninth  avatar,  or  incarnation, 
of  Vishnu,  still  seated  on  the  lotus  cushion,  and  hold- 
ing a  lotus  with  one  of  his  four  hands.  Figure  after 
figure  wears  the  Brahinanic  cord,  or  sacrificial  thread, 
over  the  left  shoulder ;  and  all  the  royal  ones  sit  in 
what  must  have  been  the  pose  of  high  fashion  at  that 
time— one  knee  bent  under  in  tailor  fashion,  the  other 
bent  knee  raised  and  held  in  a  loop  of  the  girdle  con- 
fining the  sarong  skirt.  There  is  not  a  grotesque  nor 
a  nude  figure  in  the  whole  three  miles  of  sculptured 
scenes,  and  the  costumes  are  a  study  in  themselves ; 
likewise  the  elaborate  jewels  which  Maia  and  her  maids 
and  the  princely  ones  wear.  The  trees  and  flowers  are 
a  sufficient  study  alone ;  and  on  my  last  morning  at 
Boro  Boeder  I  made  the  whole  round  at  sunrise, 
looking  specially  at  the  wonderful  palms,  bamboos, 
frangipani-,  mango-,  mangosteen-,  breadfruit-,  pome- 
granate-, banana-,  and  bo-trees— every  local  form  be- 
ing gracefully  conventionalized,  and,  as  Fergusson 
says,  "  complicated  and  refined  beyond  any  examples 
known  in  India."  It  is  such  special  rounds  that  give 
one  a  full  idea  of  what  a  monumental  masterpiece  the 
great  Buddhist  vihara  is,  what  an  epitome  of  all  the 
arts  and  civilization  of  the  eighth  century  A.  D.  those 
galleries  of  sculpture  hold,  and  turn  one  to  dreaming 
of  the  builders  aud  their  times. 

No  particularly  Javanese  types  of  face  or  figure  are 
represented.  All  the  countenances  are  Hindu,  Hindu- 
Caucasian,  and  pure  Greek;  and  none  of  the  objects 
or  accessories  depicted  with  them  are  those  of  an  un- 


190     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

civilized  people.  All  the  art  and  culture,  the  highest 
standards  of  Hindu  taste  and  living,  in  the  tenth  cen- 
tury of  triumphant  Buddhism,  are  expressed  in  this 
sculptured  record  of  the  golden  age  of  Java.  The 
Boro  Boedor  sculptures  are  finer  examples  of  the 
Greco-Buddhist  art  of  the  times  than  those  of  Amra- 
vati  and  Gandahara  as  one  sees  them  in  Indian  muse- 
ums ;  and  the  pure  Greek  countenances  show  sufficient 
evidence  of  Bactrian  influences  on  the  Indus,  whence 
the  builders  came. 

Of  the  more  than  five  hundred  statues  of  Buddha 
enshrined  in  niches  and  latticed  dagobas,  all,  save  the 
one  mysterious  figure  standing  in  the  central  or  sum- 
mit dagoba,  are  seated  on  lotus  cushions.  Those  of 
the  terrace  rows  of  chapels  face  outward  to  the  four 
points  of  the  compass,  and  those  of  the  three  circular 
platforms  face  inward  to  the  hidden,  mysterious  one. 
All  are  alike  save  in  the  position  of  the  hands,  and 
those  of  the  terrace  chapels  have  four  different  poses 
accordingly  as  they  face  the  cardinal  points.  As  they 
are  conventionally  represented,  there  is  Buddha  teach- 
ing, with  his  open  palm  resting  on  one  knee ;  Buddha 
learning,  with  that  hand  intently  closed ;  Buddha  med- 
itating, with  both  hands  open  on  his  knees ;  Buddha 
believing  and  convinced,  expounding  the  lotus  law 
with  upraised  hand ;  and  Buddha  demonstrating  and 
explaining,  with  thumbs  and  index-fingers  touching. 
The  images  in  the  lotus  bells  of  the  circular  platforms 
hold  the  right  palm  curved  like  a  shell  over  the  fingers 
of  the  left  hand— the  Buddha  who  has  comprehended, 
and  sits  meditating  in  stages  of  Nirvana.  It  was  never 
intended  that  worshipers  should  know  the  mien  of  the 


FOUK  BAS-KELIEFS  FKO.M   BO11O  BOEDOK. 
After  Wilaeii'a  drawings. 


BORO  BOEDOR  193 

great  one  in  the  summit  chalice,  the  serene  one  who, 
having  attained  the  supreme  end,  was  left  to  brood 
alone,  inaccessible,  shut  out  from,  beyond  all  the 
world.  For  this  reason  it  is  believed  that  this  stand- 
ing statue  was  left  incomplete,  the  profane  chisel  not 
daring  to  render  every  accessory  and  attribute  as  with 
the  lesser  ones. 

Humboldt  first  noted  the  five  different  attitudes  of 
the  seated  figures,  and  their  likeness  to  the  five  Dhyani 
Buddhas  of  Nepal ;  and  the  discovery  of  a  tablet  in 
Sumatra  recording  the  erection  of  a  seven-story  vihara 
to  the  Dhyani  Buddha  was  proof  that  the  faith  that 
first  came  pure  from  the  mouth  of  the  Oxus  and  the' 
Indus  must  have  received  later  bent  through  mission- 
aries from  the  Malay  Peninsula  and  Tibet.  The  Boro 
Boeder  images  have  the  same  lotus  cushion  and  aure- 
ole, the  same  curls  of  hair,  but  not  the  long  ears  of  the 
Nepal  Buddhas,  who  in  the  Mongol  doctrine  had  each 
his  own  paradise  or  quarter  of  the  earth.  The  first 
Dhyani,  who  rules  the  paradise  of  the  Orient,  is  always 
represented  in  the  same  attitude  and  pose  of  the  hands 
as  the  image  in  the  latticed  bells  of  these  upper,  circu- 
lar or  Nirvana  terraces  of  Boro  Boeder.  The  images 
on  the  east  side  of  Boro  Boeder's  square  terraces  cor- 
respond to  the  second  Dhyani's  conventional  pose; 
those  on  the  south  walls,  to  the  third  Dhyani ;  the  west- 
facing  ones,  to  the  fourth  Dhyani ;  and  the  northern 
ones,  to  the  fifth  Dhyani  of  Nepal. 

There  are  no  inscriptions  visible  anywhere  in  this 
mass  of  picture-writings,  no  corner-stone  or  any  clue 
to  the  exact  year  of  its  founding.  We  know  certainly 
that  the  third  great  synod  of  Buddhists  in  Asoka's 


194    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

time,  264  B.  c.,  resolved  to  spread  Buddhism  abroad, 
and  that  the  propaganda  begun  in  Ceylon  was  carried 
in  every  direction,  and  that  Asoka  opened  seven  of 
the  eight  original  dagobas  of  India  enshrining  relics  of 
Buddha's  body,  and,  subdividing,  put  them  in  eighty- 
four  thousand  vases  or  precious  boxes,  that  were  scat- 
tered to  the  limits  of  that  religious  world.  Stupas,  or 
dagobas,  were  built  over  these  holy  bits,  and  all  the 
central  dagoba  of  Boro  Boeder  is  believed  to  have  been 
the  original  structure  built  over  some  such  reliquary, 
and  afterward  surrounded  by  the  great  sculptured  ter- 
races. Fa  Hian,  the  Chinese  pilgrim  who  visited  Java 
in  414  A.  D.,  remarked  upon  the  number  of  "  heretics 
and  Brahmans  "  living  there,  and  noted  that  "  the  law 
of  Buddha  is  not  much  known."  Native  records  tell 
that  in  603  A.  D.  the  Prince  of  Gujerat  came,  with  five 
thousand  followers  in  one  hundred  and  six  ships,  and 
settled  at  Mataram,  where  two  thousand  more  men  of 
Gujerat  joined  him,  and  a  great  Buddhist  empire  suc- 
ceeded that  of  the  Brahmanic  faith.  An  inscription 
found  in  Sumatra,  bearing  date  656  A.  D.,  gives  the 
name  of  Maha  Raja  Adiraja  Adityadharma,  King  of 
Prathama  (Great  Java),  a  worshiper  of  the  five  Dhyani 
Buddhas,  who  had  erected  a  great  seven-storied  vihara, 
evidently  this  one  of  Boro  Boeder,  in  their  honor. 
This  golden  age  of  the  Buddhist  empire  in  Java  lasted 
through  the  seventh,  eighth,  and  ninth  centuries. 
Arts  and  religion  had  already  entered  their  decline 
in  the  tenth  century,  when  the  Prince  Dewa  Kosoumi 
sent  his  daughter  and  four  sons  to  India  to  study  re- 
ligion and  the  arts.  The  princelings  returned  with 
artists,  soldiers,  and  many  trophies  and  products ;  but 


ON   THE   SECOND  TEKKACB. 


BORO  BOEDOR  197 

this  last  fresh  importation  did  not  arrest  the  decay  of 
the  faith,  and  the  people,  relapsing  peaceably  into 
Brahmanism,  deserted  their  old  temples.  With  the 
Mohammedan  conquest  of  1475-79  the  people  in  turn 
forsook  the  worship  of  Siva,  Durga,  and  Ganesha,  and 
abandoned  their  shrines  at  Brambanam  and  elsewhere, 
as  they  had  withdrawn  from  Boro  Boeder  and  Chandi 
Sewou. 

When  the  British  engineers  came  to  Boro  Boeder, 
in  1814,  the  inhabitants  of  the  nearest  village  had 
no  knowledge  or  traditions  of  this  noblest  monu- 
ment Buddhism  ever  reared.  Ever  since  their  fathers 
had  moved  there  from  another  district  it  had  been 
only  a  tree-covered  hill  in  the  midst  of  forests.  Two 
hundred  coolies  worked  forty-five  days  in  clearing 
away  vegetation  and  excavating  the  buried  terraces. 
Measurements  and  drawings  were  made,  and  twelve 
plates  from  them  accompany  Sir  Stamford  Raffles's 
work.  After  the  Dutch  recovered  possession  of  Java, 
their  artists  and  archaeologists  gave  careful  study 
to  this  monument  of  earlier  civilization  and  arts. 
Further  excavations  showed  that  the  great  platform 
or  broad  terrace  around  the  temple  mass  was  of  later 
construction  than  the  body  of  the  pyramid,  that  a  floor- 
ing nine  feet  deep  had  been  put  entirely  around  the 
lower  walls,  presumably  to  brace  them,  and  thus  cov- 
ering many  inscriptions  the  meanings  of  which  have 
not  yet  been  given,  not  to  English  readers  at  least. 
Dutch  scientists  devoted  many  seasons  to  the  study  of 
these  ruins,  and  Herr  Brumund's  scholarly  text,  com- 
pleted and  edited  by  Dr.  Leemans  of  Leyden,  accom- 
panies and  explains  the  great  folio  volumes  of  four 


198    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

hundred  plates,  after  Wilsen's  drawings,  published  by 
the  Dutch  government  in  1874.  Since  their  uncover- 
ing the  ruins  have  been  kept  free  from  vegetation,  but 
no  other  care  has  been  taken.  In  this  comparatively 
short  time  legends  have  grown  up,  local  customs  have 
become  fixed,  and  Boro  Boedor  holds  something  of  the 
importance  it  should  in  its  immediate  human  relations. 
For  more  than  six  centuries  the  hill-temple  was  lost 
to  sight,  covered  with  trees  and  rank  vegetation ;  and 
when  the  Englishmen  brought  the  great  sculptured 
monument  to  light,  the  gentle,  easily  superstitious 
Javanese  of  the  neighborhood  regarded  these  recha — 
statues  and  relics  of  the  ancient,  unknown  cult— with 
the  greatest  reverence.  They  adopted  them  as  tutelary 
divinities,  as  it  were,  indigenous  to  their  own  soil. 
While  Wilsen  lived  there  the  people  brought  daily 
offerings  of  flowers.  The  statue  on  the  first  circular 
terrace  at  the  right  of  the  east  staircase,  and  the  se- 
cluded image  at  the  very  summit,  were  always  sur- 
rounded with  heaps  of  stemless  flowers  laid  on  moss 
and  plantain-leaves.  Incense  was  burned  to  these 
recha,  and  the  people  daubed  them  with  the  yellow 
powder  with  which  princes  formerly  painted,  and  even 
humble  bridegrooms  now  paint,  themselves  on  festal 
days,  just  as  Burmese  Buddhists  daub  gold-leaf  on 
their  shrines,  and,  like  the  Cingalese  Buddhists,  heap 
champak  and  tulse,  jasmine,  rose,  and  frangipani 
flowers,  before  their  altars.  When  questioned,  the 
people  owned  that  the  offerings  at  Boro  Boedor  were 
in  fulfilment  of  a  vow  or  in  thanksgiving  for  some 
event  in  their  lives— a  birth,  death,  marriage,  unex- 
pected good  fortune,  or  recovery  from  illness.  Other 


BORO  BOEDOR  201 

worshipers  made  the  rounds  of  the  circular  terraces, 
reaching  to  touch  each  image  in  its  latticed  bell,  and 
many  kept  all-night  vigils  among  the  dagobas  of  the 
Nirvana  circles.  Less  appealing  was  the  custom,  that 
grew  up  among  the  Chinese  residents  of  Djokjakarta 
and  its  neighborhood,  of  making  the  temple  the  goal 
of  general  pilgrimage  on  the  Chinese  New  Year's  day. 
They  made  food  and  incense  offerings  to  the  images, 
and  celebrated  with  fireworks,  feasts,  and  a  general 
May-fair  and  popular  outdoor  fete. 

After  the  temple  was  uncovered  the  natives  con^ 
sidered  it  a  free  quarry,  and  carried  off  carved  stones 
for  door-steps,  gate-posts,  foundations,  and  fences. 
Every  visitor,  tourist  or  antiquarian,  scientist  or  relic- 
hunter,  helped  himself ;  and  every  residency,  native 
prince's  garden,  and  plantation  lawn,  far  and  near,  is 
still  ornamented  with  Boro  Boeder's  sculptures.  In 
the  garden  of  the  Magelang  Residency,  Miss  Marianne 
North  found  a  Chinese  artist  employed  in  "  restoring" 
Boro  Boeder  images,  touching  up  the  Hindu  coun- 
tenances with  a  chisel  until  their  eyes  wore  the  proper 
Chinese  slant.  The  museum  at  Batavia  has  a  full  col- 
lection of  recha,  and  all  about  the  foundation  platform 
of  the  temple  itself,  and  along  the  path  to  the  passagra- 
han,  the  way  is  lined  with  displaced  images  and  frag- 
ments, statues,  lions,  elephants,  horses ;  the  Tiansa,  or 
emblematic  geese  of  Buddhism ;  the  Garouda,  or  sacred 
birds  of  Vishnu ;  and  giant  genii  that  probably  guarded 
some  outer  gates  of  approach.  A  captain  of  Dutch 
hussars  told  Herr  Brumund  that,  when  camping  at 
Boro  Boeder  during  the  Javanese  war,  his  men  amused 
themselves  by  striking  off  the  heads  of  statues  with 
11 


202     JAVA:  THE  GAEDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

single  lance-  or  saber-strokes.  Conspicuous  heads 
made  fine  targets  for  rifle  and  pistol  practice.  Native 
boys,  playing  on  the  terraces  while  watching  cattle, 
broke  off  tiny  heads  and  detachable  bits  of  carving, 
and  threw  them  at  one  another ;  and  a  few  such  play- 
ful shepherds  could  effect  as  much  ruin  as  any  of  the 
imaginary  bands  of  fanatic  Moslems  or  Brahmans. 
One  can  better  accept  the  plain,  rural  story  of  the  boy 
herders'  destructiveness  than  those  elaborately  built 
up  tales  of  the  religious  wars,  when  priests  and  people, 
driven  to  Boro  Boeder  as  their  last  refuge,  retreated, 
fighting,  from  terrace  to  terrace,  hurling  stones  and 
statues  down  upon  their  pursuers,  the  last  heroic  be- 
lievers dying  martyrs  before  the  summit  dagoba.  Fa- 
natic Mohammedans  in  other  countries  doubtless  would 
destroy  the  shrines  of  a  rival,  heretic  creed ;  but  there 
is  most  evidence  in  the  history  and  character  of  the 
Javanese  people  that  they  simply  left  their  old  shrines, 
let  them  alone,  and  allowed  the  jungle  to  claim  at  its 
will  what  no  longer  had  any  interest  or  sacredness  for 
them.  To  this  day  the  Javanese  takes  his  religion 
easily,  and  it  is  known  that  at  one  time  Buddhism  and 
Brahmanism  flourished  in  peace  side  by  side,  and  that 
conversion  from  one  faith  to  the  other,  and  back  again, 
and  then  to  Mohammedanism,  was  peaceful  and  grad- 
ual, and  the  result  of  suasion  and  fashion,  and  not  of 
force.  The  old  cults  faded,  lost  prestige,  and  vanished 
without  stress  of  arms  or  an  inquisition. 


XVI 

BORO  BOEDOR  AND  MENDOET 

ITH  five  hundred  Buddhas  in  near  neigh- 
borhood,one  might  expect  a  little  of  the 
atmosphere  of  Nirvana,  and  the  looking 
at  so  many  repetitions  of  one  object 
1  might  well  produce  the  hypnotic  stage 
akin  to  it.  The  cool,  shady  passagrahan  at  Boro  Boeder 
affords  as  much  of  earthly  quiet  and  absolute  calm,  as 
entire  a  retreat  from  the  outer,  modern  world,  as  one 
could  ever  expect  to  find  now  in  any  land  of  the  lotus. 
This  government  rest-house  is  maintained  by  the  resi- 
dent of  Kedu,  and  every  accommodation  is  provided 
for  the  prilgrim,  at  a  fixed  charge  of  six  florins  the 
day.  The  keeper  of  the  passagrahan  was  a  slow-spoken, 
lethargic,  meditative  old  Hollander,  with  whom  it  was 
always  afternoon.  One  half  expected  him  to  change 
from  battek  pajamas  to  yellow  draperies,  climb  up  on 
some  vacant  lotus  pedestal,  and,  posing  his  fingers, 
drop  away  into  eternal  meditation,  like  his  stony 
neighbors.  Tropic  life  and  isolation  had  reduced  him 
to  that  mental  stagnation,  torpor,  or  depression  so 
common  with  single  Europeans  in  far  Asia,  isolated 

203 


204     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

from  all  social  friction,  active,  human  interests,  and 
natural  sympathies,  and  so  far  out  of  touch  with  the 
living,  moving  world  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Life 
goes  on  in  placidity,  endless  quiet,  and  routine  at  Boro 
Boedor.  Visitors  come  rarely ;  they  most  often  stop 
only  for  riz  tavel,  and  drive  on ;  and  not  a  half-dozen 
American  names  appear  in  the  visitors'  book,  the  first 
entry  in  which  is  dated  1869. 

I  remember  the  first  still,  long  lotus  afternoon  in  the 
passagrahan's  portico,  when  my  companions  napped, 
and  not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness  save  the  slow,  occa- 
sional rustle  of  palm-branches  and  the  whistle  of  birds. 
In  that  damp,  heated  silence,  where  even  the  mental 
effort  of  recalling  the  attitude  of  Buddha  elsewhere 
threw  one  into  a  bath  of  perspiration,  there  was  exer- 
tion enough  in  tracing  the  courses  and  projections  of 
the  terraced  temple  with  the  eye.  Even  this  easy 
rocking-chair  study  of  the  blackened  ruins,  empty 
niches,  broken  statues,  and  shattered  and  crumbling 
terraces,  worked  a  spell.  The  dread  genii  by  the  door- 
way and  the  grotesque  animals  along  the  path  seemed 
living  monsters,  the  meditating  statues  even  seemed 
to  breathe,  until  some  "chuck-chucking"  lizard  ran 
over  them  and  dispelled  the  half-dream. 

In  those  hazy,  hypnotic  hours  of  the  long  afternoon 
one  could  best  believe  the  tradition  that  the  temple 
rose  in  a  night  at  miraculous  bidding,  and  was  not 
built  by  human  hands ;  that  it  was  built  by  the  son  of 
the  Prince  of  Boro  Boedor,  as  a  condition  to  his  re- 
ceiving the  daughter  of  the  Prince  of  Mendoet  for  a 
wife.  The  suitor  was  to  build  it  within  a  given  time, 
and  every  detail  was  rigidly  prescribed.  The  princess 


BORO  BOEDOE  AND  MENDOET  205 

came  with  her  father  to  inspect  the  great  work  of  art, 
with  its  miles  of  bas-reliefs  and  hundreds  of  statues 
fresh  from  the  sculptor's  chisel.  "  Without  doubt 
these  images  are  beautiful,"  she  said  coldly,  "  but  they 
are  dead.  I  can  no  more  love  you  than  they  can  love 
you " ;  and  she  turned  and  left  her  lover  to  brood  in 
eternal  sorrow  and  meditation  upon  that  puzzle  of  all 
the  centuries— the  Eternal  Feminine. 

At  last  the  shadows  began  to  stretch ;  a  cooler  breath 
came ;  cocoanut-leaves  began  to  rustle  and  lash  with 
force,  and  the  musical  rhythm  of  distant,  soft  Malay 
voices  broke  the  stillness  that  had  been  that  of  the 
Sleeping  Beauty's  enchanted  castle.  A  boy  crept  out 
of  a  basket  house  in  the  palm-grove  behind  the  passa- 
grahan,  and  walked  up  a  palm-tree  with  that  deliberate 
ease  and  nonchalance  that  is  not  altogether  human  or 
two-footed,  and  makes  one  rub  his  eyes  doubtingly  at 
the  unprepared  sight.  He  carried  a  bunch  of  bamboo 
tubes  at  his  belt,  and  when  he  reached  the  top  of  the 
smooth  stem  began  letting  down  bamboo  cups,  fas- 
tening one  at  the  base  of  each  leaf-stalk  to  collect  the 
sap. 

Everywhere  in  Java  we  saw  them  collecting  the 
sap  of  the  true  sugar-palm  and  the  toddy-palm,  that 
bear  such  gorgeous  spathes  of  blossoms ;  but  it  is  only 
in  this  region  of  Middle  Java  that  sugar  is  made  from 
the  cocoa-palm.  Each  tree  yields  daily  about  two 
quarts  of  sap  that  reduce  to  three  or  four  ounces  of 
sugar.  The  common  palm-sugar  of  the  passers  looks 
and  tastes  like  other  brown  sugar,  but  this  from  cocoa- 
palms  has  a  delicious,  nutty  fragrance  and  flavor,  as 
unique  as  maple-sugar.  We  were  not  long  in  the  land 


206          JAVA:   THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

before  we  learned  to  melt  cocoa-palm  sugar  and  pour 
it  on  grated  ripe  cocoannt,  thus  achieving  a  sweet 
supreme. 

The  level  valley  about  Boro  Boeder  is  tilled  in  such 
fine  lines  that  it  seems  in  perspective  to  have  been 
etched  or  hatched  with  finer  tools  than  plow  and  hoe. 
There  is  a  little  Malay  temple  surrounded  by  graves 
in  a  frangipani-grove  near  the  great  pyramid,  where 
the  ground  is  white  with  the  fallen  "  blossoms  of  the 
dead,"  and  the  tree-trunks  are  decked  with  trails  of 
white  and  palest  pink  orchids.  The  little  kampong 
of  Boro  Boeder  hides  in  a  deep  green  grove— such  a 
pretty,  picturesque  little  lot  of  basket  houses,  such  a 
carefully  painted  village  in  a  painted  grove, — the  vil- 
lage of  the  Midway  Plaisance,  only  more  so,— such  a 
set  scene  and  ideal  picture  of  Java,  as  ought  to  have 
wings  and  footlights,  and  be  looked  at  to  slow  music. 
And  there,  in  the  early  summer  mornings,  is  a  busy 
passer  in  a  grove  that  presents  more  and  more  at- 
tractive pictures  of  Javanese  life,  as  the  people  come 
from  miles  around  to  buy  and  to  sell  the  necessaries 
and  luxuries  of  their  picturesque,  primitive  life,  so 
near  to  nature's  warmest  heart. 

All  the  neighborhood  is  full  of  beauty  and  interest, 
and  there  are  smaller  shrines  at  each  side  of  Boro 
Boeder,  where  pilgrims  in  ancient  times  were  supposed 
to  make  first  and  farewell  prayers.  One  is  called 
Chandi  Pawon,  or  more  commonly  Dapor,  the  kitchen, 
because  of  its  empty,  smoke-blackened  interior  result- 
ing from  the  incense  of  the  centuries  of  living  faith, 
and  of  the  later  centuries  when  superstitious  habit, 
and  not  any  surviving  Buddhism,  led  the  humble 


THE  EIGHT-HAND  IMAGE  AT   MENDOET. 


BORO  BOEDOR  AND  MENDOET  209 

people  to  make  offerings  to  the  recha,  the  unknown, 
mysterious  gods  of  the  past. 

Chandi  Mendoet,  two  miles  the  other  side  of  Boro 
Boeder,  is  an  exquisite  pyramidal  temple  in  a  green 
quadrangle  of  the  forest,  with  a  walled  foss  and 
bridges.  Long  lost  and  hidden  in  the  jungle,  it  was 
accidentally  discovered  by  the  Dutch  resident  Hart- 
man  in  1835,  and  a  space  cleared  about  it.  The  na- 
tives had  never  known  of  or  suspected  its  existence, 
but  the  investigators  determined  that  this  gem  of 
Hindu  art  was  erected  between  750  and  800  A.  D. 
The  workmanship  proves  a  continued  progress  in  the 
arts  employed  at  Boro  Boedor,  and  the  sculptures 
show  that  the  popular  faith  was  then  passing  through 
Jainism  back  to  Brahmanism.  The  body  of  the  tem- 
ple is  forty-five  feet  square  as  it  stands  on  its  walled 
platform,  and  rises  to  a  height  of  seventy  feet.  A 
terrace,  or  raised  processional  path,  around  the  temple 
walls  is  faced  with  bas-reliefs  and  ornamental  stones, 
and  great  bas-reliefs  decorate  the  upper  walls.  The 
square  interior  chapel  is  entered  through  a  stepped 
arch  or  door,  and  the  finest  of  the  Mendoet  bas-reliefs, 
commonly  spoken  of  as  the  "  Tree  of  Knowledge,"  is 
in  this  entrance- way.  There  Buddha  sits  beneath  the 
bo-tree,  the  trunk  of  which  supports  a  pajong,  or  state 
umbrella,  teaching  those  who  approach  him  and  kneel 
with  offerings  and  incense.  These  figures,  as  well  as 
the  angels  overhead,  the  birds  in  the  trees,  and  the 
lambs  on  their  rocky  shelf,  listening  to  the  great  teacher, 
are  worked  out  with  a  grace  and  skill  beyond  compare. 
Three  colossal  images  are  seated  in  the  chapel,  all  with 
Buddha's  attributes,  and  Brahmanic  cords  as  well,  and 


210     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  long  Nepal  ears  of  the  Dhyani  ones.  They  are 
variously  explained  as  the  Hindu  trinity,  as  the  Bud- 
dhist trinity,  as  Buddha  and  his  disciples,  and  local 
legends  try  to  explain  them  even  more  romantically. 
One  literary  pilgrim  describes  the  central  Adi  Buddha 
as  the  statue  of  a  beautiful  young  woman  "  counting 
her  fingers,"  the  mild,  benign,  and  sweetly  smiling 
faces  of  all  three  easily  suggesting  femininity. 

One  legend  tells  that  this  marvel  of  a  temple  was 
built  by  a  rajah  who,  when  once  summoned  to  aid  or 
save  the  goddess  Durga,  was  followed  by  two  of  his 
wives.  To  rid  himself  of  them,  he  tied  one  wife  and 
nailed  the  other  to  a  rock.  Years  afterward  he  built 
this  temple  in  expiation,  and  put  their  images  in  it. 
An  avenging  rival,  who  had  loved  one  of  the  women, 
at  last  found  the  rajah,  killed  him,  turned  him  to  stone, 
and  condemned  him  to  sit  forever  between  his  abused 
partners. 

A  legend  related  to  Herr  Brumund  told  that  "  once 
upon  a  time  "  the  two-year-old  daughter  of  the  great 
Prince  Dewa  Kosoumi  was  stolen  by  a  revengeful  cour- 
tier. The  broken-hearted  father  wandered  all  over  the 
country  seeking  his  daughter,  but  at  the  end  of  twelve 
years  met  and,  forgetting  his  grief,  demanded  and  mar- 
ried the  most  beautiful  young  girl  he  had  ever  seen. 
Soon  after  a  child  had  been  born  to  them,  the  revenge- 
ful courtier  of  years  before  told  the  prince  that  his 
beautiful  wife  was  his  own  daughter.  The  priests  as- 
sured Prince  Dewa  that  no  forgiveness  was  possible 
to  one  who  had  so  offended  the  gods,  and  that  his  only 
course  of  expiation  lay  in  shutting  himself,  with  the 
mother  and  child,  in  a  walled  cell,  and  there  ending 


BORO  BOEDOR  AND  MENDOET  211 

their  days  in  penitence  and  prayer.  As  a  last  divine 
favor,  he  was  told  that  the  crime  would  be  forgiven 
if  within  ten  days  he  could  construct  a  Boro  Boedor. 
All  the  artists  and  workmen  of  the  kingdom  were 
summoned,  and  working  with  zeal  and  frenzy  to  save 
their  ruler,  completed  the  temple,  with  its  hundreds 
of  statues  and  its  miles  of  carvings,  within  the  fixed 
time.  But  it  was  then  found  that  the  pile  was  in- 
complete, lacking  just  one  statue  of  the  full  number 
required.  Prayers  and  appeals  were  useless,  and  the 
gods  turned  the  prince,  the  mother,  and  the  child  to 
stone,  and  they  sit  in  the  cell  at  Mendoet  as  proof  of 
the  tale  for  all  time. 

With  such  interests  we  quite  forgot  the  disagree- 
able episode  in  the  steaming,  provincial  town  beyond 
the  mountains,  and  cared  not  for  toelatings-kaart 
or  assistant  resident.  Nothing  from  the  outer  world 
disturbed  the  peace  of  our  Nirvana.  No  solitary  horse- 
man bringing  reprieve  was  ever  descried  from  the  sum- 
mit dagoba.  No  file  of  soldiers  grounded  arms  and 
demanded  us  for  Dutch  dungeons.  Life  held  every 
tropic  charm,  and  Boro  Boedor  constituted  an  ideal 
world  entirely  our  own.  The  sculptured  galleries 
drew  us  to  them  at  the  beginning  and  end  of  every 
stroll,  and  demanded  always  another  and  another  look. 
A  thousand  Mona  Lisas  smiled  upon  us  with  impas- 
sive, mysterious,  inscrutable  smiles,  as  they  have  smiled 
during  all  these  twelve  centuries,  and  often  the  reali- 
zation, the  atmosphere  of  antiquity  was  overpowering 
in  sensation  and  weird  effect. 

Boro  Boedor  is  most  mysterious  and  impressive  in 
the  gray  of  dawn,  in  the  unearthly  light  and  stillness 


212     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

of  that  eerie  hour.  Sunrise  touches  the  old  walls  and 
statues  to  something  of  life ;  and  sunset,  when  all  the 
palms  are  silhouetted  against  skies  of  tenderest  rose, 
and  the  warm  light  flushes  the  hoary  gray  pile,  is  the 
time  when  the  green  valley  of  Eden  about  the  temple 
adds  all  of  charm  and  poetic  suggestion.  Pitch-dark- 
ness so  quickly  follows  the  tropic  sunset  that  when  we 
left  the  upper  platform  of  the  temple  in  the  last  rose- 
light,  we  found  the  lamps  lighted,  and  huge  moths  and 
beetles  flying  in  and  about  the  passagrahan's  portico. 
Then  lizards  "  chuck-chucked/7  and  ran  over  the  walls ; 
and  the  invisible  gecko,  gasping,  called,  it  seemed  to 
me,  "  Becky!  Becky!  Becky!  Becky!  Becky!  Becky!  "  and 
Rebecca  answered  never  to  those  breathless,  exhausted, 
appealing  cries,  always  six  times  repeated,  slowly  over 
and  over  again,  by  the  fatigued  soul  doomed  to  a  liz- 
ard's form  in  its  last  incarnation.  There  was  infinite 
mystery  and  witchery  in  the  darkness  and  sounds  of 
the  tropic  night— sudden  calls  of  birds,  and  always 
the  stiff  rustling,  rustling  of  the  cocoa-palms,  and  the 
softer  sounds  of  other  trees,  the  shadows  of  which 
made  inky  blackness  about  the  passagrahan;  while 
out  over  the  temple  the  open  sky,  full  of  huge,  yellow, 
steadily  glowing  stars,  shed  radiance  sufficient  for  one 
to  distinguish  the  mass  and  lines  of  the  great  pyramid. 
Villagers  came  silently  from  out  the  darkness,  stood 
motionless  beside  the  grim  stone  images,  and  advanced 
slowly  into  the  circle  of  light  before  the  portico.  They 
knelt  with  many  homages,  and  laid  out  the  cakes  of 
palm-sugar,  the  baskets  and  sarongs,  we  had  bought 
at  their  toy  village.  Others  brought  frangipani  blos- 
soms that  they  heaped  in  mounds  at  our  feet.  They 


BOEO  BOEDOR  AND  MENDOET  213 

sat  on  their  heels,  and  with  muttered  whispers  watched 
us  as  we  dined  and  went  about  our  affairs  on  the  raised 
platform  of  the  portico,  presenting  to  them  a  living 
drama  of  foreign  life  on  that  regularly  built  stage 
without  footlights.  One  of  the  audience  pierced  a  fresh 
cocoanut,  drank  the  milk,  and  then  rolling  kanari  and 
benzoin  gum  in  corn-fiber,  lighted  the  fragrant  cig- 
arette, and  puffed  the  smoke  into  the  cocoa-shell. 
"  It  is  good  for  the  stomach,  and  will  keep  off  fever," 
they  answered,  when  we  asked  about  this  incantation- 
like  proceeding ;  and  all  took  a  turn  at  puffing  into  the 
shell  and  reinhaling  the  incense-clouds.  The  gentle 
little  Javanese  who  provided  better  dinners  for  pas- 
sagrahan  guests  than  any  island  hotel  had  offered  us, 
came  into  the  circle  of  light,  with  her  mite  of  a  brown 
baby  sleeping  in  the  slandang  knotted  across  her 
shoulder.  The  old  landlord  could  be  heard  as  he 
came  back  far  enough  from  his  Nirvana  to  call  for 
the  boy  to  light  a  fresh  pipe ;  and  one  felt  a  little  of 
the  gaze  and  presence  of  all  the  Dhyani  Buddhas  on 
the  sculptured  terraces  in  the  strange  atmosphere  of 
such  far-away  tropic  nights  by  the  Boeder  of  Boro. 

WHEN  we  came  "  gree-ing  "  back  by  those  beautiful 
roads  to  Djokja,  and  drew  up  with  a  whirl  at  the 
portico  of  the  Hotel  Toegoe,  the  landlord  of  beaming 
countenance  ran  to  meet  us,  greet  us  with  effusion, 
and  give  us  a  handful  of  mail— long,  official  envelops 
with  seals,  and  square  envelops  of  social  usage. 

"Your  passports  are  here.  They  came  the  next 
day.  They  are  so  chagrined  that  it  was  all  a  stupid 
mistake.  The  assistant  resident  at  Buitenzorg  tele- 


214    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN'  OF  THE  EAST 

graphed  to  the  resident  here  to  tefl  the  three  Ameri- 
can ladies  who  were  to  arrive  in  Djokja  that  he  had 
ported,  their  passports,  and  to  have  every  attention 
paid  you.  He  wished  to  commend  yon  and  pat  you  em 


Then  the  telegraph  operator  changed 
the  message  so  as  not  to  have  to  send  so  many  words 
on  the  wire,  and  he  made  <JM*m  all  thtnt  yon  were 
some  very  danger  OCA  people  whom  they  must  arrest 
and  send  back.  The  assistant  resident  knew  there  was 
some  mistake  as  soon  as  he  saw  yon.9  (Did  he?)  "He 
is  so  chagrined.  And  it  was  all  the  telegraph  operators 
fault,  and  you  must  not  blame  our  Djokja  Residency.'7 
TMtMd  of  moffirying,  this  rather  irritated  us  the 
more,  and  the  immtiaiit  resident's  long,  formal  note 
was  fuel  to  the 


"LAMES:  Thismorningltelegraphedtotiiesecretary- 
general  what  m  heaven's  name  eonM  be  the  reason  you 
were  not  to  go  to  Djokja.  I  got  no  answer  from  him, 
but  received  a  letter  from  the  chief  of  the  telegraph, 
who  had  received  a  telegram  from  the  telegraph  office 
of  Boitenxorgr  to  tefl  me  there  had  been  a  mistake  in 
the  telegram.  Instead  of  'The  permission  is  not  given/ 
there  should  hare  been  written, '  The  papers  of  permis- 
sion I  have  myself  tins  moment  posted.  Do  all  yon 
can  in  the  matter/  etc.  Perhaps  yon  wfll  have  received 
them  the  moment  you  get  tins  my  letter. 

u  So  I  am  so  happy  I  did  not  insist  upon  y our  retern- 
ing  to  Boitenzorg;  and  so  sorry  you  had  so  long  stay 
at  Boro  Boedor;  and  I  hope  yon  wffl  forget  the  fatal 
mistake,  and  feel  yourself  at  ease  now ,»  etc. 

Evidently  the  little  episode  was  confined  to  the 


BORO  BOEDOB  AND  MENDOET  215 

bureau  of  telegraphs  entirely,  the  messages  to  the 
American  consul,  secretary-general,  and  Buitenzorg 
resident  all  suppressed  before  reaching  them.  Cer- 
tainly this  was  no  argument  for  the  government  own- 
ership and  control  of  telegraphs  in  the  United  States. 
There  were  regrets  and  social  consolations  offered,  but 
no  distinct  apology ;  and  we  were  quite  in  the  mood  for 
having  the  American  consul  demand  apology,  repara- 
tion, and  indemnity,  on  pain  of  bombardment,  as  is 
the  foreign  custom  in  all  A  sin  Pacification  by  «mall 
courtesies  did  not  pacify.  Proffered  presentation  to 
native  princes;  visits  to  their  bizarre  palaces,  and  at- 
tendance at  a  great  performance  by  the  sultan's  actors, 
dancers,  musicians,  and  swordsmen,  would  hardly  off- 
set being  arrested,  brought  up  in  an  informal  police- 
court,  cross-questioned,  bullied,  and  regularly  ordered 
to  Boro  Boeder  under  parole.  We  would  not  remain 
tacitly  to  accept  the  olive-branch — not  then.  The  pro- 
fuse landlord  was  nonplussed  that  we  did  not  humbly 
and  gratefully  accept  these  amenitim. 

"  You  will  not  go  back  to  Buitenzorg  now,  with  only 
such  unhappy  experience  of  Djokja !  Every  one  is  so 
chagrined,  so  anxious  that  yon  should  forget  the  little 
contretemps.  Surely  yon  win  stay  now  for  the  great 
topeng  [lyric  drama],  and  the  wedding  of  Pakoe  Alam's 
daughter ! " 

"No  j  we  have  our  toelatings-kaarten,  and  we  leave 
on  the  noon  train." 

And  then  the  landlord  knew  that  we  should  have 
been  locked  up  for  other  reasons,  since  sane  folk  are 
never  in  a  hurry  under  the  equator.  They  consider 
the  thermometer,  treat  the  zenith  sun  with  respect* 
and  do  not  trifle  with  the  tropics. 


xvn 

BRAMBANAM 

"  In  the  whole  course  of  my  life  I  have  never  met  with  such 
stupendous  and  finished  specimens  of  human  labor  and  of  the 
science  and  taste  of  ages  long  since  forgot,  crowded  together 
in  so  small  a  compass,  as  in  this  little  spot  [Branibanam],  which, 
to  use  a  military  phrase,  I  deem  to  have  been  the  headquarters 
of  Hinduism  in  Java."  (Eeport  to  Sir  Stamford  Baffles  by  Cap- 
tain George  Baker  of  the  Bengal  establishment.) 

IHERE  are  ruins  of  more  than  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  temples  in  the  historic 
region  lying  between  Djokjakarta  and 
Soerakarta,  or  Djokja  and  Solo,  as  com- 
mon usage  abbreviates  those  syllables  of 
unnecessary  exertion  in  this  steaming,  endless  mid- 
summer land  of  Middle  Java.  As  the  train  races  on 
the  twenty  miles  from  Djokja  to  Brambanam,  there  is  a 
tantalizing  glimpse  of  the  ruined  temples  at  Kalasan ; 
and  one  small  temple  there,  the  Chandi  Kali  Bening, 
ranks  as  the  gem  of  Hindu  art  in  Java.  It  is  entirely 
covered,  inside  as  well  as  outside,  with  bas-reliefs  and 
ornamental  carvings  which  surpass  in  elaboration  and 
artistic  merit  everything  else  in  this  region,  where  re- 

216 


BRAMBANAM  219 

fined  ornament  and  lavish  decoration  reached  their 
limit  at  the  hands  of  the  early  Hindu  sculptors.  The 
Sepoy  soldiers  who  came  with  the  British  engineers 
were  lost  in  wonder  at  Kalasan,  where  the  remains  of 
Hindu  art  so  far  surpassed  anything  they  knew  in 
India  itself;  while  the  extent  and  magnificence  of 
Brambanam's  Brahmanic  and  Buddhist  temple  ruins 
amaze  every  visitor— even  after  Boro  Boeder. 

We  had  intended  to  drive  from  Boro  Boedor  across 
country  to  Brambanam,  but,  affairs  of  state  obliging 
us  to  return  from  our  Nirvana  directly  to  Djokja,  we 
fell  back  upon  the  railroad's  promised  convenience. 
In  this  guide-bookless  land,  where  every  white  resident 
knows  every  crook  and  turn  in  Amsterdam's  streets, 
and  next  to  nothing  about  the  island  of  Java,  a  kind 
dispenser  of  misinformation  had  told  us  that  the  rail- 
way-station of  Brambanam  was  close  beside  the  temple 
ruins;  and  we  had  believed  him.  The  railway  had 
been  completed  and  formally  opened  but  a  few  days 
before  our  visit,  and  our  Malay  servant  was  also  quite 
sure  that  the  road  ran  past  the  temples,  and  that  the 
station  was  at  their  very  gates. 

When  the  train  had  shrieked  away  from  the  lone 
little  station  building,  we  learned  that  the  ruins  were 
a  mile  distant,  with  no  sort  of  a  vehicle  nor  an  animal 
nor  a  palanquin  to  be  had;  and  archaeological  zeal 
suffered  a  chill  even  in  that  tropic  noonday.  The 
station-master  was  all  courtesy  and  sympathy;  but 
the  choice  for  us  lay  between  walking  or  waiting  at 
the  station  four  hours  for  the  next  train  on  to  Solo. 

We  strolled  very  slowly  along  the  broad,  open  coun- 
try road  under  the  deadly,  direct  rays  of  the  midday 


220    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

sun,— at  the  time  when,  as  the  Hindus  say, "  only  Eng- 
lishmen and  dogs  are  abroad,"— reaching  at  last  a 
pretty  village  and  the  grateful  shade  of  tall  kanari- 
trees,  where  the  people  were  lounging  at  ease  at  the 
close  of  the  morning's  busy  passer.  Every  house, 
shed,  and  stall  had  made  use  of  carved  temple  stones 
for  its  foundations,  and  the  road  was  lined  with  more 
such  recha — artistic  remains  from  the  inexhaustible 
storehouse  and  quarry  of  the  neighboring  ruins.  Piles 
of  tempting  fruit  remained  for  sale,  and  brown  babies 
sprawled  content  on  the  warm  lap  of  earth,  the  tiniest 
ones  eating  the  green  edge  of  watermelon-rind  with 
avidity,  and  tender  mothers  cramming  cold  sweet  po- 
tato into  the  mouths  of  infants  two  and  four  months 
old.  There  was  such  an  easy,  enviable  tropical  calm 
of  abundant  living  and  leisure  in  that  Lilliput  village 
under  Brobdingnag  trees  that  I  longed  to  fling  away 
my  "Fergusson,"  let  slip  life's  one  golden,  glowing, 
scorching  opportunity  to  be  informed  on  ninth-cen- 
tury Brahmanic  temples,  and,  putting  off  all  starched 
and  unnecessary  garments  of  white  civilization,  join 
that  lifelong,  happy-go-lucky,  care-free  picnic  party 
under  the  kanari-trees  of  Brambanam;  but— 

A  turn  in  the  road,  a  break  in  the  jungle  at  one  side 
of  the  highway,  disclosed  three  pyramidal  temples  in 
a  vast  square  court,  with  the  ruins  of  three  correspond- 
ing temples,  all  fallen  to  rubbish-heaps,  ranged  in  line 
facing  them.  These  ruined  piles  alone  remain  of  the 
group  of  twenty  temples  dedicated  to  Loro  Jonggran, 
"  the  pure,  exalted  virgin  "  of  the  Javanese,  worshiped 
in  India  as  Deva,  Durga,  Kali,  or  Parvati.  Even  the 
three  temples  that  are  best  preserved  have  crumbled 


BBAMBANAM  228 

at  their  summits  and  lost  their  angles ;  but  enough  re- 
mains for  the  eye  to  reconstruct  the  symmetrical  piles 
and  carry  out  the  once  perfect  lines.  The  structures 
rise  in  terraces  and  broad  courses,  tapering  like  the 
Dravidian  gopuras  of  southern  India,  and  covered,  like 
them,  with  images,  bas-reliefs,  and  ornamental  carv- 
ings. Grand  staircases  ascend  from  each  of  the  four 
sides  to  square  chapels  or  alcoves  half-way  up  in  the 
solid  body  of  the  pyramid,  and  each  chapel  once  con- 
tained an  image.  The  main  or  central  temple  now  re- 
maining still  enshrines  in  its  west  or  farther  chamber 
an  image  of  Ganesha,  the  hideous  elephant-headed  son 
of  Siva  and  Parvati.  Broken  images  of  Siva  and  Par- 
vati  were  found  in  the  south  and  north  chambers,  and 
Brahma  is  supposed  to  have  been  enshrined  in  the 
great  east  chapel.  An  adjoining  temple  holds  an  ex- 
quisite statue  of  Loro  Jonggran,  "  the  maiden  with  the 
beautiful  hips,"  who  stands,  graceful  and  serene,  in  a 
roofless  chamber,  smiling  down  like  a  true  goddess 
upon  those  who  toil  up  the  long  carved  staircase  of 
approach.  Her  particular  temple  is  adorned  with  bas- 
reliefs,  where  the  gopis,  or  houris,  who  accompany 
Krishna,  the  dancing  youth,  are  grouped  in  graceful 
poses.  One  of  these  bas-reliefs,  commonly  known  as 
the  "  Three  Graces  "  has  great  fame,  and  one  and  two 
thousand  gulden  have  been  vainly  offered  by  British 
travelers  anxious  to  transport  it  to  London.  Another 
temple  contains  an  image  of  Nandi,  the  sacred  bull; 
but  the  other  shrines  have  fallen  in  shapeless  ruins, 
and  nothing  of  their  altar-images  is  to  be  gathered 
from  the  rubbish-heaps  that  cover  the  vast  temple 
court. 
12 


224     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

The  pity  of  all  this  ruined  splendor  moves  one 
strongly,  and  one  deplores  the  impossibility  of  recon- 
structing, even  on  paper,  the  whole  magnificent  place 
of  worship.  The  wealth  of  ornament  makes  all  other 
temple  buildings  seem  plain  and  featureless,  and  one 
set  of  bas-reliefs  just  rescued  and  set  up  in  line,  de- 
picting scenes  from  the  Ramayan,  would  be  treasure 
enough  for  an  art  museum.  On  this  long  series  of 
carved  stones  disconsolate  Rama  is  shown  searching 
everywhere  for  Sita,  his  stolen  wife,  until  the  king  of 
the  monkeys,  espousing  his  cause,  leads  him  to  success. 
The  story  is  wonderfully  told  in  stone,  the  chisel  as  elo- 
quent as  the  pen,  and  everywhere  one  reads  as  plainly 
the  sacred  tales  and  ancient  records.  The  graceful 
figures  and  their  draperies  tell  of  Greek  influences 
acting  upon  those  northern  Hindus  who  brought  the 
religion  to  the  island ;  and  the  beautifully  convention- 
alized trees  and  fruits  and  flowers,  the  mythical  animals 
and  gaping  monsters  along  the  staircases,  the  masks, 
arabesques,  bands,  scrolls,  ornamental  keystones,  and 
all  the  elaborate  symbols  and  attributes  of  deities 
lavished  on  this  group  of  temples,  constitute  a  whole 
gallery  of  Hindu  art,  and  a  complete  grammar  of  its 
ornament. 

These  temples,  it  is  believed,  were  erected  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  ninth  century,  and  fixed  dates  in  the 
eleventh  century  are  also  claimed ;  but  at  least  they 
were  built  soon  after  the  completion  of  Boro  Boeder, 
when  the  people  were  turning  back  to  Brahmanism, 
and  Hindu  arts  had  reached  their  richest  development 
at  this  great  capital  of  Mendang  Kumulan,  since  called 
Brambanam.  The  fame  of  the  Javanese  empire  had 


F 


BRAMBANAM  227 

then  gone  abroad,  and  greed  for  its  riches  led  Khublai 
Khan  to  despatch  an  armada  to  its  shores ;  but  his 
Chinese  commander,  Mengki,  returned  without  ships 
or  men,  his  face  branded  like  a  thiefs.  Another  ex- 
pedition was  defeated,  with  a  loss  of  three  thousand 
men,  and  the  Great  Khan's  death  put  an  end  to  further 
schemes  of  conquest.  Marco  Polo,  wiudbound  for 
five  months  on  Sumatra,  then  Odoric,  and  the  Arab 
Ibn  Batuta,  who  visited  Java  in  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury, continued  to  celebrate  the  riches  and  splendor  of 
this  empire,  and  invite  its  conquest,  until  Arab  priests 
and  traders  began  its  overthrow.  Its  princes  were 
conquered,  its  splendid  capitals  destroyed,  and  with 
the  conversion  of  the  people  to  Mohammedanism  the 
shrines  were  deserted,  soon  overgrown,  and  became 
hillocks  of  vegetation.  The  waringen-tree's  fibrous 
roots,  penetrating  the  crevices  of  stones  that  were 
only  fitted  together,  and  not  cemented,  have  done  most 
damage,  and  the  shrines  of  Loro  Jonggran  went  fast 
to  utter  ruin. 

A  Dutch  engineer,  seeking  to  build  a  fort  in  the  dis- 
turbed country  between  the  two  native  capitals,  first 
reported  these  Brambanam  temples  in  1797;  but  it 
was  left  for  Sir  Stamford  Raffles  to  have  them  exca- 
vated, surveyed,  sketched,  and  reported  upon.  Then 
for  eighty  years — until  the  year  of  our  visit — they  had 
again  been  forgotten,  and  the  jungle  claimed  and  cov- 
ered the  beautiful  monuments.  The  Archaeological 
Society  of  Djokja  had  just  begun  the  work  of  clearing 
off  and  rescuing  the  wonderful  carvings,  and  groups 
of  coolies  were  resting  in  the  shade,  while  others  pot- 
tered around,  setting  bas-reliefs  in  regular  lines  around 


228     JAVA:  THE  GABDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  rubbish-heaps  they  had  been  taken  from.  This 
salvage  corps  chattered  and  watched  us  with  well-con- 
tained interest,  as  we,  literally  at  the  very  boiling-point 
of  enthusiasm,  at  three  o'clock  of  an  equatorial  after- 
noon, toiled  up  the  magnificent  staircases,  peered  into 
each  shrine,  made  the  rounds  of  the  sculptured  ter- 
races, or  processional  paths,  and  explored  the  whole 
splendid  trio  of  temples,  without  pause. 

Herr  Perk,  the  director  of  the  works,  and  curator 
of  this  monumental  museum,  roused  by  the  rumors  of 
foreign  invasion,  welcomed  us  to  the  grateful  shade 
of  his  temporary  quarters  beside  the  temple,  and  hos- 
pitably shared  his  afternoon  tea  and  bananas  with 
us,  there  surrounded  by  a  small  museum  of  the  finest 
and  most  delicately  carved  fragments,  that  could  not 
safely  be  left  unprotected.  "While  we  cooled,  and 
rested  from  the  long  walk  and  the  eager  scramble 
over  the  ruins,  we  enjoyed  too  the  series  of  Cephas's 
photographs  made  for  the  Djokja  Society,  and  in  them 
had  evidence  how  the  insidious  roots  of  the  graceful 
waringen-trees  had  split  and  scattered  the  fitted  stones 
as  thoroughly  as  an  earthquake ;  yet  each  waringen- 
gripped  ruin,  the  clustered  roots  streaming,  as  if  once 
liquid,  over  angles  and  carvings,  was  so  picturesque 
that  we  half  regretted  the  entire  uprooting  of  these 
lovely  trees. 

When  the  director  was  called  away  to  his  workmen, 
we  bade  our  guiding  Mohammedan  lead  the  way  to 
Chandi  Sewou,  the  "Thousand  Temples,"  or  great 
Buddhist  shrine  of  the  ancient  capital.  "Oh,"  he 
cried,  "  it  is  far,  far  from  here— an  hour  to  walk.  You 
must  go  to  Chandi  Sewou  in  a  boat.  The  water  is 


BEAMBANAM  231 

up  to  here,"  touching  his  waist,  "  and  there  are  many, 
many  snakes."  Distrusting,  we  made  him  lead  on  in 
the  direction  of  Chandi  Sewou ;  perhaps  we  might  get 
at  least  a  distant  view.  When  we  had  walked  the 
length  of  a  city  block  down  a  shady  road,  with  carved 
fragments  and  overgrown  stones  scattered  along  the 
way  and  through  the  young  jungle  at  one  side,  we 
turned  a  corner,  walked  another  block,  and  stood  be- 
tween the  giant  images  that  guard  the  entrance  of 
Chandi  Sewou's  great  quadrangle. 

The  "  Thousand  Temples  "  were  really  but  two  hun- 
dred and  thirty-six  temples,  built  in  five  quadrilateral 
lines  around  a  central  cruciform  temple,  the  whole 
walled  inclosure  measuring  five  hundred  feet  either 
way.  Many  of  these  lesser  shrines— mere  confessional 
boxes  in  size— are  now  ruined  or  sunk  entirely  in  the 
level  turf  that  covers  the  whole  quadrangle,  and  others 
are  picturesque,  vine-wreathed  masses,  looking  most 
like  the  standing  chimneys  of  a  burnt  house.  This  Bud- 
dhist sanctuary  of  the  eleventh  century  has  almost  the 
same  general  plan  as  Boro  Boedor,  but  a  Boro  Boeder 
spread  out  and  built  all  on  the  one  level.  The  five 
lines  of  temples,  with  broad  processional  paths  between 
them,  correspond  to  the  five  square  terraces  of  Boro 
Boedor ;  and  the  six  superior  chapels  correspond  to  the 
circles  of  latticed  dagobas  near  Boro  Boeder's  summit. 
The  empty  central  shrine  at  Chandi  Sewou  has  crum- 
bled to  a  heap  of  stones,  with  only  its  four  stepped- 
arch  entrance-doors  distinct ;  and  the  smaller  temples, 
each  of  them  eleven  feet  square  and  eighteen  feet  high, 
with  inner  walls  covered  with  bas-reliefs,  are  empty  as 
well.  When  the  British  officers  surveyed  Chaudi  Se- 


232     JAVA:  THE  GAEDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

wou,  five  of  the  chapels  contained  cross-legged  images 
seated  on  lotus  pedestals— either  Buddha,  or  the  tir- 
thankars,  or  Jain  saints  j  but  even  those  headless  and 
mutilated  statues  are  missing  now.  Every  evidence 
could  be  had  of  wilful  destruction  of  the  group  of 
shrines,  and  the  same  mysterious  well-hole  was  found 
beneath  the  pedestal  of  the  image  in  each  chapel— 
whether  as  receptacle  for  the  ashes  of  priests  and 
princes ;  a  place  for  the  safe  keeping  of  temple  trea- 
sures ;  as  an  empty  survival  of  the  form  of  the  earliest 
tree-temples,  when  the  mystery  of  animate  nature  com- 
manded man's  worship ;  or,  as  M.  de  Charnay  suggests, 
the  orifice  from  which  proceeded  the  voice  of  the  con- 
cealed priest  who  served  as  oracle. 

With  these  Brambanam  temples,  when  Sivaism  or 
Jainism  had  succeeded  Buddhism,  and  even  before 
Mohammedanism  came,  the  decadence  of  arts  and 
letters  began.  The  Arab  conquest  made  it  complete, 
and  the  art  of  architecture  died  entirely,  no  structures 
since  that  time  redeeming  the  people  and  religion 
which  in  India  and  Spain  have  left  such  monuments 
of  beauty. 

The  ruins  of  the  "Thousand  Temples"  are  more 
lonely  and  deserted  in  their  grassy,  weed-grown  quad- 
rangle, more  forlorn  in  their  abandonment,  than  any 
other  of  the  splendid  relics  of  Java's  past  religions.  The 
glorious  company  of  saintly  images  are  vanished  past 
tracing,  and  the  rows  of  little  sentry-box  chapels  give  a 
different  impression  from  the  soaring  pyramids  of  solid 
stone,  with  their  hundreds  of  statues  and  figures  and  the 
wealth  of  sculptured  ornament,  found  elsewhere.  The 
vast  level  of  the  plain  around  it  is  a  lake  or  swamp  in 


BRAMBANAM 


233 


the  rainy  season,  and  the  damp  little  chapels,  with 
their  rubbish-heaps  in  dark  corners  and  the  weed- 
grown  well-hole,  furnish  ideal  homes  for  snakes.  As 
our  Mohammedan  had  suggested  snakes,  we  imagined 
them  everywhere,  stepping  carefully,  throwing  stones 


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PLAN  OF  CHANDI  SEWOU  ("THOUSAND  TEMPLES"). 
From  Sir  Stamford  Raffles'*  "  History  of  Java." 

ahead  of  us,  and  thrusting  our  umbrellas  noisily  into 
each  chapel  before  we  ventured  within ;  but  the  long- 
anticipated,  always  expected  great  snake  did  not  ma- 
terialize to  give  appropriate  incident  to  a  visit  to  such 
complete  ruins.  Only  one  small  wisp  of  a  lizard  gave 


234    JAVA:  THE  GAEDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  least  starting-point  for  a  really  thrilling  traveler's 
tale.  The  only  other  moving  object  in  sight  at  Chandi 
Sewou  was  a  little  girl,  with  a  smaller  sister  astride 
of  her  hip,  who  followed  us  timidly  and  sat  for  a  time 
resting  on  the  knee  of  one  of  the  hideous  gate  guard- 
ians—one of  the  Gog  and  Magog  stone  monsters,  who, 
although  kneeling,  is  seven  feet  in  height,  and  who, 
with  a  club  in  his  right  hand,  a  snake  wound  around 
his  left  arm,  and  a  ferocious  countenance,  should 
frighten  any  child  into  spasms  rather  than  invite  fa- 
miliarity. 

Herr  Perk  pointed  out  to  us,  on  the  common  be- 
tween the  two  great  temples,  a  formless  green  mound 
which  he  would  excavate  the  following  week,  and 
showed  us  also  the  Chandi  Lompang,  a  temple  cleared 
off  eighty  years  ago,  but  covered  with  a  tangle  of  un- 
derbrush and  a  few  tall  trees— a  sufficient  illustra- 
tion of  what  all  the  Loro  Jonggran  temples  had  been 
when  the  Djokja  Society  began  its  work  of  rescue  and 
preservation.  The  British  engineers  could  see  in  1812 
that  Chandi  Lompang  had  been  a  central  shrine  sur- 
rounded by  fourteen  smaller  temples,  whose  carved 
stones  have  long  been  scattered  to  fence  fields  and 
furnish  foundation-stones  for  the  neighborhood.  It 
was  hoped  that  the  kind  mantle  of  vegetation  had  pre- 
served a  series  of  bas-reliefs  of  Krishna  and  the  lovely 
gopis,  wrought  with  an  art  equal  to  that  employed  by 
the  sculptors  of  the  "  Three  Graces  "  at  Loro  Jonggran 
which  the  British  surveyors  uncovered.  Every  one 
must  rejoice  that  a  period  of  enlightenment  has  at  last 
come  to  the  colony,  and  that  steps  are  being  taken  to 
care  for  the  antiquities  of  the  island. 


FRAGMENT  FROM   LOKO  JONGGRAN   TEMPLE. 


BBAMBANAM  237 

There  are  other  regions  of  extensive  temple  rains  in 
Java,  but  none  where  the  remains  of  the  earlier  civi- 
lization are  so  well  preserved,  the  buildings  of  such 
extent  and  magnificence,  their  cults  and  their  records 
so  well  known,  as  at  Boro  Boedor  and  Brambanam. 
The  extensive  ruins  of  the  Singa  Sari  temples,  four 
miles  from  Malang,  near  the  southeastern  end  of  the 
island,  are  scattered  all  through  a  teak  and  waringen 
forest,  half  sunk  and  overgrown  with  centuries  of 
vegetation.  Images  of  Ganesha,  and  a  colossal  Nandi, 
or  sacred  bull  of  Siva,  with  other  Brahmanic  deities, 
remain  in  sight ;  and  inscriptions  found  there  prove 
that  the  Singa  Sari  temples  were  built  at  about  the 
same  time  as  the  Loro  Jonggran  temples  at  Bram- 
banam. The  mutilation  and  signs  of  wanton  destruc- 
tion of  the  recha  suggest  that  it  was  not  a  peaceful 
conversion  from  Brahmanism  to  Mohammedanism  in 
that  kingdom  either. 

ON  the  Dieng  plateau,  southwest  of  Samarang,  and 
not  far  from  Boro  Boedor,  there  are  ruins  of  more  than 
four  hundred  temples,  and  the  traces  of  a  city  greater 
than  any  now  existing  on  the  island.  This  region  has 
received  comparatively  little  attention  from  archaeolo- 
gists, although  it  has  yielded  rich  treasures  in  gold, 
silver,  and  bronze  objects,  a  tithe  of  which  are  pre- 
served in  the  museum  of  the  Batavian  Society.  For 
years  the  Dieng  villagers  paid  their  taxes  in  rough  in- 
gots of  gold  melted  from  statuettes  and  ornaments 
found  on  the  old  temple  sites,  and  more  than  three 
thousand  florins  a  year  were  sometimes  paid  in  such 
bullion.  The  Goenoeng  Praoe,  a  mountain  whose 


238     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

summit-lines  resemble  an  inverted  praoe,  or  boat,  is 
the  fabled  home  of  the  gods ;  and  the  whole  sacred 
height  was  once  built  over  with  temples,  staircases  of 
a  thousand  steps,  great  terraces,  and  embankment 
walls,  now  nearly  lost  in  vegetation,  and  wrecked  by 
the  earthquakes  of  that  very  active  volcanic  region. 
These  Dieng  temples  appear  to  have  been  solid  struc- 
tures, whose  general  form  and  ornamentation  so  resem- 
ble the  ruins  in  Yucatan  and  the  other  states  of  Cen- 
tral America  that  archaeologists  still  revolve  the  puzzle 
of  them,  and  hazard  no  conjectures  as  to  the  worshipers 
and  their  form  of  worship,  save  that  the  rites  or  sacri- 
fices were  very  evidently  conducted  on  the  open  sum- 
mits or  temple-tops.  I  could  not  obtain  views  of  these 
ruined  pyramid  temples  from  any  of  the  Batavia  pho- 
tographers, to  satisfy  me  as  to  their  exact  lines  even 
in  decay.  There  are  other  old  Siva  temples  in  that 
region  furtively  worshiped  still,  and  the  "Valley  of 
Death,"  where  the  fabled  upas  grew,  was  long  believed 
to  exist  in  that  region,  where  the  cult  of  the  destroyer 
was  observed. 

M.  de  Charnay  did  not  visit  these  pyramid  temples 
of  the  Dieng  plateau ;  but  after  seeing  the  temple  of 
Boro  Boeder,  and  those  at  Brambanam,  he  summed 
up  the  resemblances  of  the  Buddhist  and  Brahmanic 
temples  of  Java  to  those  at  Palenque  and  in  Yucatan 
as  consisting:  in  the  same  order  of  gross  idols;  the 
pyramid  form  of  temple,  with  staircases,  like  those  of 
Palenque  and  Yucatan ;  the  small  chapels  or  oratories, 
with  subterranean  vaults  beneath  the  idols ;  the  same 
interior  construction  of  temples ;  the  stepped  arches ; 
the  details  of  ornamentation,  terraces,  and  esplanades, 


GANESHA,  THE  ELEPHANT-HEADED  GOD. 


BRAMBANAM  239 

as  in  Mexico  and  Yucatan ;  and  the  localization  of  tem- 
ples in  religious  centers  far  from  cities,  forming  places 
of  pilgrimage,  as  at  Palenque,  Chichen-Itza,  and,  in  a 
later  time,  at  Cozumel.1 

1Vide  "Six  Semaines  a  Java,"  par  Desir6  de  Charnay  ("Le 
Tour  du  Monde,"  volume  for  1880). 


XVIII 

SOLO :  THE  CITY  OP  THE  SUSUNHAN 

[S  the  two  native  states  of  Middle  Java,  the 
Vorstenlanden,  or  "  Lands  of  the  Princes," 
were  last  to  be  brought  under  Dutch  rule, 
Djokjakarta  and  Soerakarta  are  the  cap- 
itals and  head  centers  of  native  suprem- 
acy, where  most  of  Javanese  life  remains  unchanged. 
The  Sultan  of  Djokja,  and  the  so-called  emperor,  or 
susunkan,  of  Solo,  were  last  to  yield  to  oversea 
usurpers,  and,  as  tributary  princes  enjoying  a  "pro- 
tected and  controlled  independence,"  accept  an  "ad- 
visory elder  brother,"  in  the  person  of  a  Dutch  resident, 
to  sit  at  their  sovereign  elbows  and  by  "  suggestions  " 
rule  their  territories  for  the  greater  good  of  the  na- 
tives and  the  Holland  exchequer.  All  the  region 
around  Djokja  and  Solo  is  classic  ground,  and  the 
oldest  Javanese  myths  and  legends,  the  earliest  tradi- 
tions of  native  life,  have  their  locale  hereabout.  These 
people  are  the  Javanese,  and  show  plainly  their  Hindu 
descent  and  their  higher  civilization,  which  distinguish 
them  from  the  Sundanese  of  West  Java ;  yet  the  Sun- 
danese  call  themselves  the  "  sons  of  the  soil,"  and  the 

240 


SOLO:  THE  CITY  OF   THE   SUSUNHAN         241 

Javanese  "  the  stranger  people."  The  glories  of  the 
Hindu  empire  are  declared  by  the  magnificent  ruins 
so  lately  uncovered,  but  the  splendor  of  the  Moham- 
medan empire  barely  survives  in  name  in  the  strangely 
interesting  city  of  the  susunhan  set  in  the  midst  of  the 
plain  of  Solo— a  plain  which  M.  Desire  de  Charnay 
described  as  "  a  paradise  which  nothing  on  earth  can 
equal,  and  neither  pen,  brush,  nor  photography  can 
faithfully  reproduce." 

At  this  Solo,  second  city  of  the  island  in  size,  one 
truly  reaches  the  heart  of  native  Java— the  Java  of 
the  Javanese— more  nearly  than  elsewhere;  but  Is- 
lam's old  empire  is  there  narrowed  down  to  a  kraton, 
or  palace  inclosure,  a  mile  square,  where  the  present 
susunhan,  or  object  of  adoration,  lives  as  a  restrained 
pensioner  of  the  Dutch  government,  the  mere  shadow 
of  those  splendid  potentates,  his  ancestors. 

The  old  susunhans  were  descended  from  the  Moor- 
men or  Arab  pirates  who  harried  the  coast  for  a  cen- 
tury before  they  destroyed  the  splendid  Hindu  capital 
of  Majapahit,  near  the  modern  Soerabaya.  They 
followed  that  act  of  vandalism  with  the  conquest  of 
Pajajaran,  the  western  empire,  or  Sundanese  end  of 
the  island ;  and  religious  conversion  always  went  with 
conquest  by  the  followers  of  the  prophet.  There  was 
perpetual  domestic  war  in  the  Mohammedan  empire, 
which  by  no  means  held  the  unresisting  allegiance  of 
the  Javanese  at  any  time,  and  the  Hindu  princes  of 
Middle  Java  were  never  really  conquered  by  them  or 
the  Dutch.  The  Java  war  of  the  last  century  between 
the  Mohammedan  emperor,  the  Dutch,  and  the  rebel- 
lious native  prince,  Manko  Boeni,  lasted  for  thirteen 


242     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

years ;  and  in  this  century  the  same  sort  of  a  revolt 
cost  the  Dutch  as  imperial  allies  more  than  four  mil- 
lions of  florins,  and  made  the  British  rejoice  that  their 
statesmen  had  wisely  handed  back  such  a  troublesome 
and  expensive  possession  as  Java  proved  to  be.  The 
great  Mataram  war  of  the  last  century,  however,  es- 
tablished the  family  of  the  present  susunhan  on  the 
throne,  after  dividing  his  empire  with  a  rebellious 
younger  brother,  who  then  became  Sultan  of  Djokja- 
karta, and  a  new  capital  was  built  on  the  broad  plain 
cut  by  the  Bengawan  or  Solo  River, which  is  the  largest 
river  of  the  island.  At  the  death  of  the  susunhan, 
Pakoe  Bewono  II  ("Nail  of  the  Universe"),  in  1749, 
his  will  bequeathed  his  empire  to  the  Dutch  East  India 
Company,  and  at  last  gave  Holland  control  of  the 
whole  island.  Certain  lands  were  retained  for  the  im- 
perial family,  and  its  present  head,  merely  nominal, 
figurehead  susunhan  that  he  is,  receives  an  annuity 
of  one  hundred  thousand  florins— a  sum  equal  to  the 
salary  of  the  governor-general  of  Netherlands  India. 
The  present  susunhan  of  Solo  is  not  the  son  of  the 
last  emperor,  but  a  collateral  descendant  of  the  old 
emperors,  who  claims  descent  from  both  Mohammedan 
and  Hindu  rulers,  the  monkey  flag  of  Arjuna  and  the 
double-bladed  sword  of  the  Arab  conquerors  alike  his 
heirlooms  and  insignia.  His  portraits  show  a  gentle, 
refined  face  of  the  best  Javanese  type,  and  he  wears  a 
European  military  coat,  with  the  native  sarong  and 
Arab  fez,  a  court  sword  at  the  front  of  his  belt,  and 
a  Solo  kris  at  the  back.  Despite  his  trappings  and 
his  sovereign  title,  he  is  as  much  a  puppet  and  a  pris- 
oner as  any  of  the  lesser  princes,  sultans,  and  regents 


THE  SCSCSHAS. 


SOLO:  THE  CITY  OF  THE   SUSUNHAN         245 

whom  the  Dutch,  having  deposed  and  pensioned,  allow 
to  masquerade  in  sham  authority.  He  maintains  all 
the  state  and  splendor  of  the  old  imperialism  within 
his  kraton,  which  is  confronted  and  overlooked  by  a 
Dutch  fort,  whose  guns,  always  trained  upon  the  kra- 
ton, could  sweep  and  level  the  whole  imperial  estab- 
lishment at  a  moment's  notice.  The  susunhan  may 
have  ten  thousand  people  living  within  his  kraton 
walls;  he  may  have  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine 
wives  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  carriages,  as  re- 
ported; but  he  may  not  drive  beyond  his  own  gates 
without  informing  the  Dutch  resident  where  he  is 
going  or  has  been,  with  his  guard  of  honor  of  Dutch 
soldiers,  and  he  has  hardly  the  liberty  of  a  tourist 
with  a  toelatings-kaart.  He  may  amuse  himself  with 
a  little  body-guard  of  Javanese  soldiers ;  but  there  is 
a  petty  sultan  of  Solo,  an  ancient  vassal,  whose  mil- 
itary ambitions  are  encouraged  by  the  Dutch  to  the 
extent  of  allowing  him  to  drill  and  command  a  private 
army  of  a  thousand  men  that  the  Dutch  believe  would 
never  by  any  chance  take  arms  against  them,  as  allies 
of  the  susunhan's  fancy  guard.  Wherever  they  have 
allowed  any  empty  show  of  sovereignty  to  a  native 
ruler,  the  Dutch  have  taken  care  to  equip  a  military 
rival,  with  the  lasting  grudge  of  an  inherited  family 
feud,  and  establish  him  in  the  same  town.  But  little 
diplomacy  is  required  to  keep  such  jealousies  alive  and 
aflame,  and  the  Dutch  are  always  an  apparent  check, 
and  pacific  mediators  between  such  rivals  as  the  su- 
sunhan and  the  sultan  at  Solo,  and  the  sultan  and 
Prince  Pakoe  Alam  at  Djokja. 
The  young  susunhan  maintains  his  empty  honors 


246    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

with  great  dignity  and  serenity,  observing  all  the 
European  forms  and  etiquette  at  his  entertainments, 
and  delighting  Solo's  august  society  with  frequent 
court  balls  and  fe"tes.  Town  gossip  dilates  on  his 
marble-floored  ball-room,  the  fantastic  devices  in  elec- 
tric lights  employed  in  illuminating  the  palace  and  its 
maze  of  gardens  on  such  occasions,  and  on  the  blaze 
of  heirloom  jewels  worn  by  the  imperial  ladies  and 
princesses  at  such  functions.  The  susunhan  some- 
times grants  audiences  to  distinguished  strangers,  and 
one  French  visitor  has  told  of  some  magnificent  Jap- 
anese bronzes  and  Chinese  porcelains  in  the  kraton, 
which  were  gifts  from  the  Dutch  in  the  early  time 
when  the  Japanese  and  Javanese  trade  were  both  Hol- 
land monopolies.  No  prostrations  or  Oriental  salaams 
are  required  of  European  visitors  at  court,  although 
the  old  susunhans  obliged  even  the  crown  prince  and 
prime  minister  to  assume  the  dodok,  and  sidle  about 
like  any  cup-bearer  in  his  presence.  The  princes  and 
petty  chiefs  were  so  precisely  graded  in  rank  in  those 
days  that,  while  the  highest  might  kiss  the  sovereign's 
hand,  and  those  of  a  lower  rank  the  imperial  knee, 
there  were  those  of  lesser  pretensions  who  adoringly 
kissed  the  instep,  and,  last  of  all,  those  who  might 
only  presume  to  kiss  the  sole,  of  the  susunhan's  foot. 
The  susunhan  is  always  accompanied  on  his  walks  in 
the  palace  grounds,  and  on  drives  abroad,  by  a  bearer 
with  a  gold  pajong,  or  state  umbrella,  spreading  from 
a  jeweled  golden  staff.  The  array  of  pajongs  carried 
behind  the  members  of  his  family  and  court  officials 
present  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  and  all  the  varie- 
gations a  fancy  umbrella  is  capable  of  showing— each 


SOLO:  THE  CITY  OF  THE  SUSUNHAN         247 

striped,  banded,  bordered,  and  vandyked  in  a  different 
way,  that  would  puzzle  the  brain  of  any  but  a  Solo 
courtier,  to  whom  they  speak  as  plainly  as  a  door-plate. 

Solo  has  the  same  broad  streets  and  magnificent 
shade-trees  as  the  other  towns  of  Java,  and  some  of 
the  streets  have  deep  ditches  or  moats  on  either  side 
of  the  drive,  with  separate  little  bridges  crossing  to 
each  house-front,  which  give  those  thoroughfares  a 
certain  feudal  quaintness  and  character  of  their  own. 
At  the  late  afternoon  hour  of  our  arrival  we  only 
stopped  for  a  moment  to  deposit  the  luggage  at  the 
enormously  porticoed  Hotel  Sleier,  and  then  drove  on 
through  and  about  the  imperial  city.  The  streets  were 
full  of  other  carriages, — enormous  barouches,  "mi- 
lords," and  family  carryalls,  drawn  by  big  Walers,— 
with  which  we  finally  drew  up  in  line  around  the  park, 
where  a  military  band  was  playing.  We  had  seen 
bewildering  lines  of  palace  and  fort  and  barrack  walls, 
marching  troops,  and  soldiers  lounging  about  off  duty, 
until  it  was  easy  to  see  that  Solo  was  a  vast  garrison, 
more  camp  than  court.  Later,  when  we  had  returned 
to  the  hotel  portico,  to  swing  at  ease  in  great  broad- 
armed  rocking-chairs,— exactly  the  Shaker  piazza- 
chairs  of  American  summer  life,— there  was  still  sound 
of  military  music  off  beyond  the  dense  waringen  shade, 
and  the  fanfare  of  bugles  to  right  and  to  left. 

Solo's  hotel,  with  its  comforts,  offered  more  mate- 
rial inducements  for  us  to  make  a  long  stay,  than  any 
hotel  we  had  yet  encountered  in  Java ;  and  the  clear- 
headed, courteous  landlady  was  a  hostess  in  the  most 
kindly  sense.  The  usual  colonial  table  d'hdte  assem- 
bled at  nine  o'clock  in  the  vast  inner  hall  or  pavilion, 

13 


248    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

looking  on  a  garden ;  and  in  this  small  world,  where 
every  one  knows  every  one,  his  habitat  and  all  his 
affairs,  the  new-comers  were  given  a  silent,  earnest 
attention  that  would  have  checked  any  appetites  save 
those  engendered  by  our  archaeological  afternoon  at 
Brambanam.  When  beefsteak  was  served  with  a  sauce 
of  pineapple  mashed  with  potato,  and  the  succeeding 
beet  salad  was  followed  by  fried  fish,  and  that  by  a 
sweet  pudding  flooded  with  a  mixture  of  melted  choc- 
olate and  freshly  ground  cocoanut,  we  were  oblivious 
to  all  stares  and  whispers  and  open  comments  in  Dutch, 
which  these  colonials  take  it  for  granted  no  alien  un- 
derstands or  can  even  have  clue  to  through  its  likeness 
to  German.  While  we  rocked  on  the  great  white  por- 
tico we  could  see  and  hear  that  Solo's  lizards  were  as 
gruesome  and  plentiful  as  those  of  other  towns.  While 
tiny  fragilities  flashed  across  white  columns  and  walls, 
and  arrested  themselves  as  instantaneous  traceries  and 
ornaments,  a  legion  of  toads  came  up  from  the  garden, 
and  hopped  over  the  floor  in  a  silence  that  made  us 
realize  how  much  pleasanter  companions  were  the 
croaking  and  bemoaning  geckos,  who  keep  their  ugli- 
ness out  of  sight. 

At  sunrise  we  set  out  in  the  company  of  an  Ameri- 
can temporarily  in  exile  at  Solo,  and  drove  past  the 
resident's  great  garden  of  palms  and  statues  and  flower- 
beds, into  the  outer  courts  of  the  emperor's  and  the 
sultan's  palaces,  watching  in  the  latter  the  guard- 
mount  and  drill  of  a  fine  picked  body  of  his  troops. 
The  palace  of  one  of  the  younger  princes  of  the  im- 
perial house  was  accessible  through  kind  favor,  as  the 
owner  is  pleased  to  let  uitlanders  enjoy  the  many  for- 


THE   DODOK. 


SOLO:  THE  CITY  OF  THE  SUSUNHAN         261 

eign  features  of  these  pleasure-grounds.  This  foreign 
garden  did  not,  however,  make  us  really  homesick  by 
any  appealing  similarity  to  the  grounds  of  citizens  or 
presidents  on  the  American  side  of  the  globe ;  for  the 
progressive  prince  has  arranged  his  demesne  quite 
after  the  style  of  the  gardens  of  the  cafes  chantants 
of  the  lower  Elysee  in  Paris — colored-glass  globes  and 
all,  marble-rimmed  flower-beds,  and  a  cascade  to  be 
turned  on  at  will  and  let  flow  down  over  a  marble  stair- 
case set  with  colored  electric  bulbs.  Colored  globes 
and  bulbs  hang  in  festoons  and  arches  about  the  bi- 
zarre garden,  simulate  fruits  and  flowers  on  the  trees 
and  bushes,  glow  in  dark  pools  and  fountain  basins, 
and  play  every  old  fantastic  trick  of  al-fresco  cafes  in 
Europe.  A  good  collection  of  rare  beasts  and  birds  is 
disposed  in  cages  in  the  grounds,  and  there  are  count- 
less kiosks  and  pavilions  inviting  one  to  rest.  In  one 
such  summer-house,  with  stained-glass  walls,  the  at- 
tendants showed  photographs  of  the  prince,  his  father 
and  family,  the  solemn  old  faces  and  the  costumes  of 
these  elders  almost  the  only  purely  Javanese  things  to 
be  seen  in  this  fantastic  garden,  since  even  the  recha, 
gray  old  images  from  Boro  Boeder  and  Brambanam, 
have  been  brightened  with  red,  white,  and  blue  paint 
and  made  to  look  cheerful  and  decorative— have  been 
restored,  improved,  brought  down  to  modern  times, 
and  made  to  accord  better  with  their  cafe-chantant 
surroundings. 

Quite  unexpectedly,  we  saw  the  princely  personage 
himself  receive  his  early  cup  of  coffee — attracted  first 
to  the  ceremony  by  noticing  a  man  carrying  a  gold 
salver  and  cup,  and  followed  by  an  umbrella-bearer 


262    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

and  two  other  attendants,  enter  an  angle  of  the  court 
in  whose  shady  arcade  we  were  for  the  moment  resting. 
Suddenly  all  four  men  dropped  to  their  heels  in  the 
dodok,  and,  crouching,  sidled  and  hopped  along  for  a 
hundred  feet  to  the  steps  of  a  pavilion.  The  cup- 
bearer insinuated  himself  up  those  four  steps,  still 
squatting  on  his  heels,  and  at  the  same  time  balancing 
his  burden  on  his  two  extended  hands,  and  proffered 
the  gold  salver  to  a  shadowy  figure  half  reclining  in  a 
long  chair.  We  stood  motionless,  unseen  in  our  dark 
arcade,  and  watched  this  precious  bit  of  court  comedy 
through,  and  saw  the  cup-bearer  retire  backward  down 
the  steps,  across  the  court,  to  the  spot  where  he  might 
rise  from  his  ignoble  attitude  and  walk  like  a  human 
being  again.  While  exacting  this  much  of  the  old  eti- 
quette, this  prince  of  European  education  and  tastes 
has  the  finest  ball-room  in  Solo— a  vast  white-marble- 
floored  pringitan,  or  open-sided  audience-hall,  which  is 
lighted  with  hundreds  of  electric  lights,  and  on  whose 
shining  surface  great  cotillions  are  danced,  and  rich 
favors  distributed  to  companies  blazing  with  diamonds. 


XIX 


THE  LAND  OF  KRIS  AND  SARONG 

HE  stir  of  camp  and  court,  the  state 
and  pomp  and  pageantry  of  three  such 
grandees  as  emperor,  sultan,  and  resident 
in  the  one  city,  made  such  street-scenes 
in  Solo  as  tempted  the  kodaker  to  con- 
stant play  while  the  sun  was  high.  Bands  and  march- 
ing troops  were  always  to  be  seen  in  the  street,  and 
the  native  officials  of  so  many  different  kinds  made 
pictures  of  bewildering  variety.  The  resident,  re- 
turning from  an  official  call,  dashed  past  in  a  coach 
and  four,  with  pajong-bearers  hanging  perilously  on 
behind,  and  a  mounted  escort  clattering  after.  Mem- 
bers of  the  imperial  household  staff  were  distinguished 
by  stiff  sugar-loaf  caps  or  f  ezzes  of  white  leather ;  and 
such  privileged  ones  stalked  along  slowly,  magnifi- 
cently, each  with  a  kris  at  the  back  of  his  belt,  and 
always  followed  by  one  or  two  lesser  minions.  Those 
of  superior  rank  went  accompanied  by  a  pajong-bearer 
balancing  the  great  flat  umbrella  of  rank  above  the 
distinguished  one's  head ;  and  the  precision  with  which 
the  grandee  kept  his  head  within  the  halo  of  shadow, 

253 


264          JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

or  the  bearer  managed  to  keep  such  a  true  angle  on 
the  sun,  were  something  admirable,  and  only  to  be 
accomplished  by  generations  of  the  two  classes  prac- 
tising their  respective  feats.  The  emperor's  mounted 
troops  were  objects  of  greater  interest,  these  dragoons 
wearing  huge  lacquered  vizors  or  crownless  caps  over 
their  turbaned  heads,  the  regulation  jackets,  sarongs, 
and  heavy  krises,  and  bestriding  fiery  little  Timor 
ponies.  The  native  stirrup  is  a  single  upright  bar  of 
iron,  which  a  rider  holds  between  the  great  toe  and  its 
neighbor ;  and  these  troopers  seemed  to  derive  as  much 
support  from  this  firm  toe-grip  as  booted  riders  do  from 
resting  the  whole  ball  of  the  foot  on  our  stirrups. 

There  is  a  labyrinthine  passer  at  Solo,  where  open 
sheds  and  rustic  booths  have  grown  upon  one  another 
around  several  open  court  spaces,  which  are  dotted 
with  the  huge  mushrooms  of  palm-leaf  umbrellas,  and 
whose  picturesqueness  one  cannot  nearly  exhaust  in  a 
single  morning's  round.  The  pepper-  and  fruit-  and 
flower-markets  are,  of  course,  the  regions  of  greatest 
attraction  and  richest  feasts  of  color.  The  horn  of 
plenty  overflowed  royally  there,  and  the  masses  of  ba- 
nanas and  pineapples,  durians,  nankos,  mangosteens, 
jamboas,  salaks,  dukus,  and  rambutans  seemed  richer 
in  color  than  we  had  ever  seen  before ;  and  the  brass-, 
the  basket-,  the  bird-,  the  spice-,  and  the  gum-markets 
had  greater  attractions  too.  The  buyers  were  as  inter- 
esting as  the  venders,  and  a  frequent  figure  in  these 
market  groups  that  tempted  the  kodaker  to  many  an 
instantaneous  shot,  regardless  of  the  light,— better  any 
muddy  impression  of  that  than  none  at  all,— was  the 
Dutch  housewife  on  her  morning  rounds.  I  braved 


JAVA,  BALI,  AND   MADUKA    KKISES. 
From  Sir  Stamford  Kaffles's  '•  History  of  Java." 


THE  LAND  OP  KRIS  AND  SARONG     257 

sunstroke  and  apoplexy  in  the  hot  sunshine,  and  trailed 
my  saronged  subjects  down  crowded  aisles  to  open 
spots,  to  fix  on  film  the  image  of  these  sockless  ma- 
trons in  their  very  informal  morning  dress.  I  lurked 
in  booths  and  sat  for  endless  minutes  in  opposite  shops, 
with  focus  set  and  button  at  touch,  to  get  a  good  study 
of  Dutch  ankles,  when  certain  typical  Solo  hausfraus 
should  return  to  and  mount  their  carriage  steps— only 
to  have  some  loiterer's  back  obscure  the  whole  range 
of  the  lens  at  the  critical  second. 

We  found  pawnshops  galore  in  this  city  full  of  cour- 
tiers and  hangers-on  of  greatness,  and  such  array  of 
krises  and  curious  weapons  that  there  was  embarrass- 
ment of  choice.  We  left  the  superior  shops  of  dealers 
in  arms,  where  new  blades,  fresh  from  Sheffield  or 
German  works,  were  pressed  upon  us,  and  betook  our- 
selves to  the  junk-shops  and  pawnshops,  where  aggre- 
gations of  discarded  finery  and  martial  trappings  were 
spread  out.  Books,  silver,  crystal,  cutlery,  jeweled  dec- 
orations, medals,  epaulets,  swords,  and  krises  in  every 
stage  of  rust  and  dilapidation  were  found  for  sale. 

The  kris  is  distinctively  the  Malay  weapon,  and  is 
a  key  to  much  of  Malay  custom  and  lore ;  and  if  the 
Japanese  sword  was  "the  soul  of  the  Samurai,"  as 
much  may  be  said  for  the  kris  of  the  Javanese  warrior. 
The  cutler  or  forger  of  kris-blades  ranked  first  of  all 
artisans.  There  are  more  than  one  hundred  varieties 
of  the  kris  known,  the  distinctive  Javanese  types  of 
kris  differing  from  those  of  the  Malay  Peninsula  and 
the  other  islands,  and  forty  varieties  of  kris  being  used 
in  Java  and  its  immediate  dependencies.  The  kris 
used  in  Bali  differs  from  that  of  Madura  or  Lombok, 


258     JAVA:  THE  GAKDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

and  that  of  Solo  from  that  used  in  "West  or  Suda- 
nese Java.  These  differences  imply  many  curiously 
fine  distinctions  of  long-standing  importance  in  eti- 
quette and  tradition ;  yet  the  kris  is  a  comparatively 
modern  weapon— modern  as  such  things  go  in  Asia. 
No  kris  is  carved  on  Boro  Boeder  or  Brambanam 
walls,  and  its  use  cannot  be  traced  further  back  than 
the  thirteenth  century,  despite  the  legends  of  mythi- 
cal Panji,  who,  it  is  claimed,  devised  the  deadly  crooked 
blade  and  brought  it  with  him  from  India.  When  it 
was  introduced  from  the  peninsula  it  was  instantly 
adopted,  and  all  people  wearing  the  kris  were  counted 
by  that  badge  as  subjects  of  Java.  The  kris  is  worn 
by  all  Javanese  above  the  peasant  class  and  over  four- 
teen years  of  age,  and  is  a  badge  of  rank  and  station 
which  the  wearer  never  puts  aside  in  his  waking  hours. 
Great  princes  wear  two  and  even  four  krises  at  a  time, 
and  women  of  rank  are  allowed  to  display  it  as  a  badge. 
It  is  always  thrust  through  the  back  of  the  girdle  or 
belt,  a  little  to  the  left,  and  at  an  angle,  that  the  right 
hand  may  easily  grasp  the  hilt ;  and  its  presence  there, 
ready  for  instant  use,  has  proved  a  great  restraint  to 
the  manners  of  a  spirited,  hot-blooded  people,  and  lent 
their  intercourse  that  same  exaggerated  formality, 
mutual  deference,  and  high  decorum  that  equally  dis- 
tinguished the  old  two-sworded  men  of  Japan.  The 
kris  is  the  warrior's  last  refuge,  as  the  Javanese  will 
run  amuck,  like  other  Malays,  when  anger,  shame,  or 
grief  has  carried  him  past  all  bounds,  and,  stabbing 
at  every  one  in  the  way,  friend  or  enemy  alike,  is  ready 
then  to  take  his  own  life. 

The  Javanese  are  still  the  best  metal-workers  in  the 


THE  LAND  OF  KRIS  AND  SARONG  259 

archipelago,  and  long  displayed  wonderful  skill  in 
tempering  steel,  in  welding  steel  and  iron  together, 
and  in  giving  the  wavy  blade  fine  veinings  and  dam- 
ascenings. Those  beautiful  veinings,  grained  and 
knotted  in  wood,  and  other  curious  patteniings  of  the 
blade,  were  obtained  by  soaking  the  blades,  welded  of 
many  strips  of  hard  and  soft  metal,  in  lime-juice  and 
arsenic  until  the  surface  iron  was  eaten  out.  A  wound 
from  such  a  weapon  is,  of  course,  as  deadly  as  if  the 
kris  were  dipped  in  poison  for  that  purpose  solely ;  and 
from  this  arises  the  common  belief  that  all  kris-blades 
are  soaked  in  toxic  preparations.  With  the  more  gen- 
eral use  of  firearms,  and  the  arming  of  the  troops  with 
European  rifles,  the  kris  remains  chiefly  a  personal 
adornment,  an  article  of  luxury,  and  a  badge  of  rank. 
Solo  has  always  been  considered  a  later  Toledo  for 
its  blades,  and  in  the  search  for  a  really  good,  typical 
Solo  kris  I  certainly  looked  over  enough  weapons  to 
arm  the  sultan's  guard.  The  most  of  them  were  dis- 
appointingly plain  as  to  sheath  and  hilt,  the  boat- 
shaped  wooden  hilts  having  only  enough  carving  on 
the  under  part  to  give  the  hand  a  firm  grasp.  We 
could  not  find  a  single  Madura  kris,  with  the  curious 
totemic  carvings  on  the  handle ;  and  all  the  finely  or- 
namental krises,  with  gold,  silver,  or  ivory  handles 
inlaid  with  jewels,  have  long  since  gone  to  museums 
and  private  collections.  One  may  now  and  then  chance 
upon  finely  veined  blades  with  mangosteen  handles  in 
plain,  unpromising  wood,  and  brass  Sundanese  sheaths ; 
but  after  seeing  the  treasures  of  krises  in  the  Batavia 
museum,  one  is  little  satisfied  with  such  utilities,  mere 
every-day  serviceable  weapons.  Increasing  tourist 


260    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

travel  will  soon  encourage  the  manufacture  of  orna- 
mental krises,  and  in  numbers  to  meet  the  certain  fixed 
demand,  so  that  later  tourists  will  have  better  sou- 
venirs than  can  be  had  now. 

There  is  one  whole  street  of  sarong-shops  in  Solo, 
each  little  shop  or  open  booth  glowing  with  cloths  of 
brilliant  colors,  and  each  shop  standing  in  feudal  dig- 
nity behind  a  tiny  moat,  with  a  mite  of  a  foot-bridge 
quite  its  own.  Solo  sarongs  presented  many  designs 
quite  new  to  us,  and  the  sarong-painters  there  employ 
a  rich,  dull,  dark  red  and  a  soft,  deep  green  in  the  long 
diamonds  and  pointed  panels  of  solid  color,  relieved 
with  borders  of  intricate  groundwork,  that  tempt 
one  to  buy  by  the  dozen.  There  were  many  sarongs, 
painted  with  four  and  five  colors  in  fine,  elaborate  de- 
signs, that  rose  to  ten  and  twenty  United  States  gold 
dollars  in  value ;  but  one's  natural  instincts  protested 
against  paying  such  prices  for  a  couple  of  yards  of 
cotton  cloth,  mere  figured  calico,  forsooth,  despite  its 
artistic  and  individual  merits.  Our  landlady  at  the 
Sleier  had  inducted  us  into  much  of  the  sarong's  mys- 
teries, qualities,  and  details  of  desirability,  and  we  had 
the  museum's  rare  specimens  in  mind ;  but  we  were 
distracted  in  choice,  and  the  thing  I  desired,  just  any 
little  scrap  as  an  example  of  the  prang  rusa,  or  deer- 
fight,  pattern,  which  only  the  imperial  ones  may  wear, 
was  not  to  be  had  anywhere  in  Solo.  We  looked  in 
upon  many  groups  of  little  women  tracing  out  fine, 
feathery,  first-outline  designs  in  brown  dye  with  their 
tiny  funnel  arrangements  that  are  the  paint-brushes 
of  their  craft ;  and  we  found  one  great  cement-floored 
fabrik  of  sarongs,  a  regular  factory  or  wholesale  estab- 


THE  LAND  OF  KEIS  AND  SARONG  261 

lishment,  with  many  Chinese  and  native  workmen. 
There  whole  sections  of  the  sarong  pattern  were 
stamped  at  a  stroke  by  lean  Chinese,  who  used  the 
same  kind  of  tin  stamping-blocks  as  are  used  in  stamp- 
ing embroidery  patterns  in  Western  lands.  We  knew 
there  was  such  a  factory  for  block-printed  sarongs  on 
Tenabang  Hill  in  Batavia,  but  it  was  a  shock,  a  disil- 
lusionment, to  come  upon  such  an  establishment  of  vir- 
tually ready-made,  "  hand-me-down  "  sarongs  in  Solo. 
There  is  a  large  Chinese  population  in  Solo ;  and 
one  has  sufficient  evidence  of  the  wealth  and  prosperity 
of  these  Paranaks  as  one  sees  them  driving  past  in 
handsome  victorias,  wearing  immaculate  duck  suits, 
patent-leather  shoes,  and  silk  hose,  with  only  the  ig- 
noble pigtail,  trailing  away  from  the  derby  hat  and 
disappearing  shamefully  inside  the  collar,  to  betray 
them.  These  rich  Paranaks  sit  rigid  and  imperturb- 
able, with  folded  arms,  the  very  model  of  good  form, 
smoking  long  black  cheroots,  and  viewing  all  people 
afoot  with  undisguised  scorn.  One  need  not  possess 
a  Californian's  bitter  anti-Chinese  sentiments  to  have 
this  spectacle  irritate  him,  and  to  almost  wish  to  see 
the  plutocrats  pitched  out  of  their  "  milords  "  and  the 
Javanese  Jehu  drive  over  them.  One  easily  under 
stands  the  hatred  that  Dutch  and  natives  alike  enter- 
tain for  these  small  traders,  middlemen,  and  usurers, 
who  have  driven  out  all  competitors,  and  fatten  on  the 
necessities  of  the  people.  Although  these  island-born 
Chinese  have  adopted  so  many  European  fashions  in 
dress  and  luxurious  living,  they  are  still  Celestials, 
never  cutting  the  queue  nor  renouncing  the  tinseled 
household  altars. 


262    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

Sola's  Chinatown,  or  Tjina  kampong.  is  a  little  China 
complete,  1  tarring  its  amazinsr  cleanliness  and  order 
without  odors  other  than  those  of  the  cook-shops, 
where  sesame-oil  sizzles  and  smells  quite  as  at  home 
in  "big  China.9  There  were  three  great  weddings  in 
progress  on  one  "lucky  day  "  in  Solo,  and  each  house- 
front  was  trimmed  with  flags,  lanterns,  garlands,  and 
tinsel  flowers;  orchestras  tinkled  and  thumped,  and 
great  feasts  were  spread  in  honor  of  the  brides7  com- 
ing to  the  new  homes.  Every  one  was  bidden  to 
enter  and  partake;  and  we  were  hospitably  urged 
to  enter  at  each  gorgeous  door,  and  rice-wine,  cham- 
pagne, painted  cakes,  and  afl  the  fruits  of  two  zones 
were  generously  pressed  upon  us.  The  thumps  of  an 
approaching  band  drew  us  from  one  sarong-shop,  and 
we  saw  a  procession  advancing,  with  banners  and  huge 
lanterns  borne  aloft.  One  felt  sure  the  remarkable 
train  must  hare  issued  from  the  palace  gates  until 
the  faces  were  in  range,  and  there  followed  the  gor- 
geous red  Chinese  wedding-chair,  and  all  the  bride's 
jewels  and  gowns  and  gilded  slippers,  carried  about  on 
cushions  like  sovereign  regalia.  Men  in  uniform  bore 
palanquins  fall  of  varnished  pig,  and  mountains  of 
the  pies  and  cakes  and  nameless  things  of  Chinese  high- 
holiday  appetites,  that  roused  the  gaping  envy  of  the 
street  crowds,  Urchins  cheered  and  danced  and  ran 
with  the  band  much  as  they  do  elsewhere ;  and  the 
gen,  captivated  with  the  sights,  drove  beside  the 


gaudy  procession  until  sated  with  the  Oriental  splen- 
dors and  Celestial  opulence  of  a  Solo  marriage  feast 

The  street  fife  of  Solo  could  well  entertain  one  for 
many  days.    Native  life  is  but  the  least  affected  by 


THE  LAND  OF  KRIS  AND  SABONO  263 

foreign  ways,  and  the  local  color  is  all  one  could  wish. 
There  are  drives  of  great  beauty  about  the  town,  with 
far  views  of  those  two  lovely  symmetrical  peaks,  Mer- 
api  and  Merbaboe,  on  one  side,  and  of  the  massive 
Mount  Lawn  on  the  other.  The  temple  ruins  at  Suku, 
at  the  foot  of  Mount  Lawn,  twenty-six  miles  southeast 
of  Solo,  are  the  most  puzzling  to  arehsBologistB,  feast 
known  and  visited  of  all  such  remains  in  Java.  They 
are  of  severe  form  and  massive  construction,  without 
traces  of  any  carved  ornament,  and  the  solid  pylons, 
truncated  pyramids,  and  great  obelisks,  fitamting  on 
successive  platforms  or  terraces,  bear  such  s 


resemblance  to  tie  monuments  of  ancient  Egypt  and 
Central  America  that  speculation  is  offered  a  wide 
range  and  free  field.  The  images  found  there  an 
ruder  than  any  other  island  sculptures,  and  every- 
thing points  to  these  strange  temples  having  been  the 
shrines  of  an  earlier,  simpler  faith  than  any  now  ob- 
served or  of  which  there  is  any  record.  These  Suku 
temples  were  discovered  in  IS  14  by  Major  Johnson, 
the  British  officer  residing  at  the  native  court  of  Solo. 
They  were  then  unknown  to  the  natives  ;  there  were 
no  inscriptions  found,  nothing  in  native  records  or 
traditions  to  lead  to  any  solution  of  their  mysteries; 
and  no  further  attempts  have  been  made  toward  dis- 
covering the  origin  of  these  vast  constructions  since 
Sir  Stamford  Barnes's  day. 

When  M.  Deare"  de  Char-nay  came  to  Java,  in  1878, 
to  study  the  temple  ruins  whose  puzzling  resemblance 
to  Central  American  structures  had  puzzled  archaeolo- 
gists. all  of  government  assistance  was  lent  him.  He 
had  driven  only  eight  leagues  from  Solo  toward  Mount 


264    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

Lawu,  when  his  carriage  broke  down;  he  spent  the 
night  at  a  village,  and  returned  the  next  morning  to 
Solo,  "  sufficiently  humiliated  with  "  his  "  failure,"  he 
wrote.  He  did  not  repeat  the  attempt,  as  there  was  a 
great  f  e~te  occurring  at  the  emperor's  palace  which  oc- 
cupied his  remaining  days.  He  says  that  every  one 
at  Solo  consoled  him  for  his  failure  to  reach  the  Suku 
temples  by  saying  that  the  visible  ruins  there  were 
only  the  attempted  restorations  of  an  epoch  of  deca- 
dence, and  dated  only  from  the  fourteenth  century. 
M.  de  Charnay  quotes  all  that  Sir  Stamford  Raffles 
and  Fergusson  urge  as  to  the  striking  and  extraordi- 
nary resemblance  of  these  particular  temples  to  those 
of  Mexico  and  Yucatan ;  and  as  ethnologists  admit  that 
the  Malays  occupied  the  archipelagos  from  Easter  Is- 
land to  Madagascar,  he  thinks  it  easy  to  believe  that 
they  or  a  parent  race  extended  their  migrations  to  the 
American  continent,  and  that  if  this  architectural  re- 
semblance be  an  accident,  it  is  the  only  one  of  its 
kind  in  the  universe.1 

The  three-domed  summit  of  the  mountain  is  visited 
now  by  Siva  worshipers,  who  make  offerings  and  burn 
incense  to  the  destroying  god  who  manifests  himself 
there,  and  the  region  is  one  to  tempt  a  scientist  across 
the  seas  to  exploit  it,  and  should  soon  invite  the  at- 
tention of  the  exploring  parties  which  Mr.  Morris  K. 
Jesup  has  enlisted  in  the  search  for  proofs  of  early 
Asiatic  and  American  contact. 

1  "Le Tour du Monde,"  "Six  Semainesa  Java,"  parM.  D6sir6 
de  Charnay,  volume  for  1880. 


XX 

DJOKJAKARTA 

|S  the  heat  of  Solo  was  but  little  less  than 
that  of  Batavia,  and  we  had  only  worse 
accounts  and  solemn  warnings  given  of 
the  sickening,  unendurable  heat  of  Soe- 
rabaya,  where  fever  and  cholera  most 
often  abide,  it  seemed  wisest  to  give  up  the  visit  to 
that  east  end  of  the  island,  to  forego  that  torrid  shore 
where  first  the  Arabs  landed  and  conquered  the  Hindu 
rulers  of  Majapahit,  to  be  succeeded  in  their  turn  by 
the  Portuguese,  and  then  the  Dutch.  The  ruins  of 
Majapahit,  and  the  tombs  of  its  princes,  and  the  graves 
of  the  Arab  priests  who  were  the  first  rulers  of  the  con- 
quered empire  are  attractions  in  Soerabaya's  neighbor- 
hood ;  but  the  great  object  was  the  Mount  Bromo  of 
the  Tengger  plateau,  where  the  exhausted  residents 
may  take  refuge  from  the  steaming  plain  and  breathe 
again.  Tosari,  the  great  sanatorium,  on  one  of  the 
sharp  spurs  of  the  Tengger,  is  over  five  thousand  feet 
in  air,  and  commands  one  of  the  most  famous  views 
in  Java,  with  the  plains,  the  sea,  and  groups  of  islands 
in  one  direction,  and  the  great  Bromo,  smoking  splen- 

265 


266    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

didly,  in  another.  The  great  crater  of  the  Bromo, 
with  several  smoking  cones  rising  from  a  level  of  rip- 
pling, wind-swept  "  sandy  sea,"  is  three  miles  in  diame- 
ter, and  is  claimed,  despite  Kilauea,  as  the  largest  crater 
in  the  world,  as  it  is  certainly  the  largest  in  Java.  A 
colony  of  Siva  worshipers,  who  fled  to  the  Tengger 
that  they  might  pursue  their  religion  unmolested  by 
Arab  rulers,  live  there  in  long  communal  houses,  tend 
the  sacred  fire  once  brought  from  India,  and  sacrifice 
regularly  to  Brama,  the  "  God  of  Fire,"  at  his  smok- 
ing temple.  In  this  modern  day  living  sacrifices  are 
not  offered,  save  of  fowl ;  and  priests  and  people  con- 
tent themselves  with  offerings  of  fruit  and  foods,  and 
make  other  great  ceremonies  of  burning  lumps  of  fra- 
grant benzoin,  the  "  Java  frankincense,"  at  the  crater's 
edge. 

The  most  serious  sacrifices  in  the  Bromo's  neighbor- 
hood are  of  those  unfortunate  natives  who  are  seized 
by  tigers  as  they  work  in  clearings  or  walk  mountain 
paths  alone.  The  briefest  stay  at  Tosari  equips  a  vis- 
itor with  tiger  stories  fit  for  tropical  regions ;  and  my 
envy  was  roused  when  some  Tosari  tourists  told  of 
having  seen  a  child  who  had  been  seized  and  slightly 
mangled  by  a  tiger,  but  a  day  before,  on  a  road  near 
the  village,  over  which  they  themselves  had  passed. 

The  short  railway  ride  back  from  Solo  to  Djokja,  past 
the  familiar  ground  of  Brambanam,  was  a  morning's 
delight.  We  could  see  from  the  train  that  the  rail- 
way did  run  close  past  the  temple  courts ;  and  with 
the  brief  glimpse  of  the  ruined  pyramids,  we  viewed 
our  exploit  of  walking  to  Loro  Jonggran's  fane  at 
midday,  and  clambering  over  the  temples  through  the 


THE  BRAMBAXAM  BABY. 


DJOKJAKARTA 

long  afternoon,  with  great  complacency— a  feat  that 
nothing  could  induce  us  to  repeat,  however. 

It  is  all  historic  and  sacred  soil  in  the  region  around 
Djokja,  and  we  returned  with  the  greater  interest  for 
our  real  visit  to  the  city,  where  one  touches  the  age  of 
fable  in  even  the  geographic  names  of  the  place  and 
its  environs,  since  the  modern  Dutch  rendering  of 
Djokjakarta,  and  the  older  Yugya-Karta  of  Sir 
Stamford  Raffles,  are  only  variants  of  the  native 
Ayogya-Karta,  the  Ayudya  mentioned  in  the  Javanese 
Parvas,  or  Ramayan,  as  the  capital  established  by 
Rama.  The  exploits  of  Na-yud-ya,  the  earliest  ruler 
of  Djokja,  are  described  in  the  same  sacred  Parvas, 
and  this  was  the  center  of  the  early  Hindu  empire, 
whose  princes  were  great  builders  and  for  ten  cen- 
turies were  busy  erecting  temples,  palaces,  and  towers 
in  the  region  around  this  their  city  of  Mataram. 

Na-yud-ya's  descendants  resisted  the  Arab  invaders 
to  the  last,  and  the  Hindu  princes  of  Middle  Java  re- 
tained their  independence  long  after  Islam's  susunhan 
had  declared  himself  supreme  over  the  eastern  empire 
of  Majapahit l  and  the  western  empire  of  Pajajaran.2 
These  Hindu  or  native  princes,  as  they  were  consid- 
ered, resisted  susunhan  and  Dutch  alike,  and  the  Java 
war  of  the  last  century  against  the  two  usurpers  was 
a  long  and  bitter  struggle,  lasting  from  1745  to  1758. 
The  susunhan's  brother,  the  second  prince,  who  had 
joined  the  native  or  Hindu  princes,  was  won  back  to 

1  Majapahit,  capital  of  the  eastern  empire,  was  near  the 
modern  Soerabaya. 

2  Pajajaran,  capital  of  the  western  empire,  was  near  the 
modern  Batavia. 

y 


270    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

family  allegiance  by  Dutch  intrigue  and  influence ;  and 
the  susunhan,  dividing  his  eastern  or  Majapahit  em- 
pire with  his  troublesome  brother,  made  the  latter  a 
ruler,  under  the  title  of  Sultan  of  Djokjakarta.  The 
Dutch  had  been  given  the  site  of  Samarang  for  their 
aid  in  such  wars,  and  soon  after  the  division  of  the 
eastern  empire,  the  susunhan  made  that  remarkable 
will  of  1749,  deeding  his  empire  to  the  Dutch  East 
India  Company  after  his  decease.  The  region  be- 
tween Djokja  and  Solo  remained  a  seat  of  war  for 
the  rest  of  the  century,  the  old  princes,  different  heirs, 
claimants,  and  factions,  always  resorting  to  arms,  and 
the  Dutch  always  having  an  interest  in  the  struggles. 
Marshal  Daendels  had  his  campaigns  against  and  his 
sieges  of  Djokja,  and  the  British  had  to  besiege  and 
bombard  it  before  it  admitted  Sepoy  occupation.  After 
the  restoration  of  Java  to  the  Dutch  there  was  a  thir- 
teen years'  war  with  this  eastern  empire,— the  Matarain 
or  Majapahit  war,— and  then,  by  treaty,  the  Dutch 
gained  final  control  of  the  whole  island  and  became  ab- 
solute masters  of  Java ;  susunhan  and  sultan  accepted 
annuities ;  each  paid  a  revenue  in  products  of  the  soil, 
and  admitted  Dutch  residents  to  "  make  recommenda- 
tions." The  Sultan  of  Djokja  is  only  another  of  the 
puppet  rulers.  He  maintains  the  outward  show  and 
trappings  of  his  ancestors'  estate,  and,  with  fine  irony, 
is  termed  one  of  the  "  independent  princes." 

The  city  of  Djokja,  fifth  in  size  of  the  cities  of  the 
island,  and  reputed  as  more  Javanese  than  Solo,  less 
influenced  by  Chinese  and  European  example,  is  in  the 
center  of  the  residency,  and  but  twelve  miles  from 
the  shores  of  the  Indian  Ocean.  It  is  approached  by 


DJOKJAKARTA  271 

railway  from  either  side  over  a  plain  planted  chiefly 
with  indigo  and  tapioca,  whose  low,  uninteresting 
plants  in  myriad  rows,  and  the  frequent  roofs  and  tall 
chimneys  of  fabriks,  speak  of  abundant  prosperity  for 
all  classes.  The  broad  streets  of  the  provincial  capital 
are  beautifully  shaded,  and  the  residency,  a  great,  low, 
white  building  with  a  classical  portico,  is  set  in  a  lux- 
uriant garden,  where  Madagascar  palms  and  splendid 
trees  make  halos  and  shadow  for  the  grim  stone  im- 
ages, the  pensive  Buddhas  and  fine  bas-reliefs,  brought 
from  neighboring  ruins.  The  government  offices  ad- 
join, and  on  any  court  day  one  may  see  the  crowds  of 
litigants  and  witnesses  sitting  around  on  their  heels 
beneath  a  shadowing  waringen-tree  that  would  be  fit 
bench  for  Druids'  justice.  The  majority  of  the  cases 
tried  before  the  assistant  resident,  who  there  balances 
the  scales,  are  of  petty  thieving ;  for  notwithstanding 
the  severity  of  the  penalties  for  such  offenses,  the  in- 
herent bias  of  the  Malay  mind  is  toward  acquiring 
something  for  nothing — transmuting  twum  into  meiim. 
The  death  sentence  is  pronounced  upon  the  burglar 
caught  with  a  weapon  on  his  person,  and  twenty  years 
in  chains  is  prescribed  for  the  unarmed  burglar ;  for 
in  this  eternal  summer,  where  people  must  live  and 
sleep  with  open  doors  and  windows,  or  at  most  with 
flimsy  lattices,  some  protection  must  be  assured  to 
those  who  own  portable  properties  and  valuables. 
But  with  the  great  advances  made  in  the  security  of 
property,  the  innate  propensities  of  the  race  are  not 
to  be  eradicated  by  even  three  centuries  of  stern 
Dutch  justice ;  and  there  is  the  same  mass-meeting  of 
witnesses  and  lookers-on  squatting  under  the  big 


272     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

waringen-tree  at  Djokja,  when  the  scales  are  to  be 
balanced  by  the  blind  lady,  as  before  every  petty 
court-room  on  the  island.  An  ingenious  little  firefly 
lamp,  taken  from  a  Djokja  burglar,  was  given  me  as  a 
souvenir  of  one  such  a  court  day.  It  was  a  veritable 
fairy's  dark  lantern— a  half  of  a  nutshell,  with  a  flat 
cover  sliding  on  a  pivot  and  concealing  at  will  the 
light  of  two  fireflies  struggling  in  a  dab  of  pitch.  The 
burglar  carried  a  reserve  supply  of  fireflies  in  a  bit  of 
hollow  bamboo  stoppered  at  the  ends,  and  added  a 
fresh  illuminator  whenever  the  dark  lantern's  living 
glow  diminished. 

The  Djokja  passer  is  a  large  and  important  daily 
gathering,  but  corrugated-iron  and  tiled  sheds  in 
formal  rows  have  pretty  nearly  robbed  it  of  all  a 
passer's  picturesqueness.  Model  municipal  govern- 
ment, Dutch  system  and  order,  are  too  pronounced 
to  please  one  whose  eye  has  seen  what  a  few  palm- 
thatched  booths  and  umbrellas,  and  a  few  tons  of 
scattered  fruits  and  peppers,  can  produce  in  that  pic- 
nic encampment  by  Boro  Boeder's  groves  or  in  the 
open  common  at  Tissak  Malaya. 

We  had  been  promised  great  finds  in  the  way  of  old 
silver  and  krises  in  a  street  of  Chinese  pawnshops 
opening  from  one  corner  of  the  passer ;  but  the  prom- 
ises were  not  realized.  The  betel-boxes,  buckles,  and 
clasps  in  charge  of  these  wily  "  uncles  "  of  Djokja  were 
plain  and  commonplace,  and  not  a  jeweled  nor  a  fancy 
kris  of  any  kind  was  to  be  seen,  after  all  the  repute  of 
Djokja's  riches  in  these  lines  of  native  metal- work. 
Hundreds  of  sarongs,  each  with  a  dangling  ribbon  of 
a  ticket^  were  stowed  away  on  the  shelves  of  these 


DJOKJAKARTA  273 

pawnshops,  proofs  of  the  improvidence  and  small  ne- 
cessities of  these  easy-going,  chance-inviting  people ; 
and  while  we  were  haggling  over  a  veined  kris-blade 
with  the  most  obdurate  Chinese  that  ever  kept  a  pawn- 
shop, a  timid  little  woman  stole  in  and  offered  her 
sarong  to  the  arrogant,  blustering  old  rascal.  He 
scowled  and  scolded  and  stormed  at  the  frightened 
little  creature,  shook  out  and  snapped  the  finely  pat- 
terned battek  as  if  it  were  a  dust-cloth,  and  still  mut- 
tering as  if  making  threats  of  blood  and  vengeance, 
made  out  a  ticket,  and  threw  it  at  her  with  a  few  silver 
cents.  We  wanted  nothing  more  from  that  shop,  save 
the  head  of  the  "  uncle  "  on  a  trencher  or  impaled  on 
a  kris's  point. 

With  a  shameless  eye  to  revenue  only,  the  govern- 
ment has  long  continued  to  sell  pawnbrokers'  licenses 
at  auction  to  the  highest  bidder,  after  a  brief  relapse 
from  the  year  1869  to  1880,  when  the  experiment  was 
tried  of  selling  licenses  to  any  one  at  a  moderate  rate. 
The  great  income  from  such  licenses  fell  away  so  amaz- 
ingly that  the  auctions  were  resumed,  and  the  im- 
provident natives  handed  over  again  to  the  merciless 
Chinese  pawnbrokers,  who  charge  interest  even  up  to 
ninety  per  cent.,  and  usually  retain  everything  that 
crosses  their  counters.  M.  Emile  Metzger,  in  a  com- 
munication to  the  " Scottish  Geographic  Magazine" 
(vol.  iv.,  1888),  gives  fifty  thousand  florins  a  year  as 
the  annual  revenue  during  the  eleven  years  when  the 
other  system  prevailed,  which  soon  increased  to  as 
much  as  one  million,  sixty-five  thousand  florins  a  year 
when  licenses  were  again  auctioned  off.  Since  1903 
pawnshops  are  under  government  management. 


274    JAVA:  THE  GABDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

The  Sultan  of  Djokja  has  a  kraton,  or  palace  inclo- 
sure,  a  mile  square  in  the  very  heart  of  the  city,  the 
great  entrance-gates  fronting  on  a  vast  plein  or  platz, 
where  waringen-trees  have  been  clipped  and  trained 
to  the  shape  of  colossal  state  umbrellas,  great  green 
pajongs  planted  in  permanence  in  the  outer  court  or 
approach  to  the  throne,  as  a  badge  of  royalty.  The 
huge  Burmese  elephants,  that  play  an  important  part 
in  state  processions,  trumpet  in  one  corner;  and 
strangely  costumed  retainers  are  coming  and  going, 
some  of  them  as  gaily  uniformed  as  parrakeets,  and 
others  reminding  one  of  the  picadors  and  matadors  in 
the  chorus  of  "  Carmen."  Surrounded  by  this  indoor 
army  of  gorgeous  musicians,  singers,  dancers,  bearers 
of  fan  and  pajong,  pipe  and  betel-boxes,  the  sultan's 
court  is  as  splendidly  staged  as  in  the  last  century ; 
and  when  this  "  regent  of  the  world  "  and  "  vicegerent 
of  the  Almighty/'  as  his  titles  translate,  goes  abroad 
in  state  procession,  the  spectacle  is  worth  going  far  to 
see,  the  Djokjans  assure  one.  Twenty  different  kinds 
of  pajongs  belong  to  this  court — those  flat  umbrellas 
that  are  the  oldest  insignia  of  royalty  in  all  the  East, 
and  are  sculptured  on  Boro  Boeder's  walls  through  all 
the  centuries  pictured  there.  From  the  sultan's  own 
golden  pajong  with  orange  border,  the  gold-bordered 
pajong  of  the  crown  prince,  the  white  pajongs  of  sul- 
tanas and  their  children  and  of  concubines'  children, 
down  to  the  green,  red,  pink,  blue,  and  black  pajongs 
of  the  lesser  officials  and  nobles,  all  pajongs  are  exactly 
ordered  by  court  heraldry— the  pajong  the  definite 
symbol  of  rank,  a  visiting-card  that  announces  its 
owner's  consequence  from  afar.  Strange  accompani- 


DJOKJAKARTA  275 

ments  these,  however,  for  a  sultan  who  plays  billiards 
at  the  club  and  a  sultana  who  takes  a  hand  at  whist. 

The  old  Taman  Sarie,  or  Water  Kastel,  in  the  sub- 
urbs, built  by  a  Portuguese  architect  in  the  middle  of 
the  last  century  for  the  great  sultan  Manko  Boeni, 
is  an  Oriental  Trianon,  a  paradise  garden  of  the  trop- 
ics, where  former  greatness  spent  its  hours  of  ease  in 
cool,  half -underground  chambers  and  galleries  such  as 
Hindu  princes  have  made  for  themselves  in  every  part 
of  India.  The  Taman  Sarie  is  sadly  deserted  now.  The 
most  important  buildings  were  shaken  to  formless 
mounds  by  earthquakes— the  last  great  Djokja  earth- 
quake of  1867,  when  so  many  lives  were  lost,  making 
the  complete  ruins  that  are  covered  with  vines  and 
weeds.  The  ornamental  waters  are  choked  with  weeds 
and  rubbish ;  the  carved  stonework  is  black  with  mold 
and  lichens;  the  caves,  grottoes,  tunnels,  staircases, 
and  galleries  around  the  wells  are  dripping  and  slippery 
with  green  mosses ;  and  the  rose-gardens  and  shrubber- 
ies are  fast  going  to  jungle.  A  few  pavilions  remain, 
whose  roof  gables  are  as  deeply  recurved  as  those  of 
Burmese  temples,  but  for  the  most  part  all  the  once 
splendid  carved  and  gilded  constructions  are  but 
wrecks  and  refuges  for  bats  and  lizards.  The  Water 
Kastel  in  its  better  days  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  lake, 
reached  only  by  boat  or  a  secret  tunnel ;  and  here  the 
old  sultan  Hamanku  Bewono  IV  and  his  harem  whiled 
away  their  leisure  hours,  even  when  an  army  thundered 
at  the  gates. 

On  one  unfortunate  day  he  kept  Marshal  Daen- 
dels  waiting  in  the  outer  court  for  an  hour  beyond 
the  time  appointed  for  an  interview,  while  the  sul- 


276    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

tan  and  his  women  made  merry,  and  the  gamelan 
sounded  gaily  from  the  Water  Kastel's  galleries. 
Daendels,  growing  weary,  suddenly  pushed  through 
the  retainers  to  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel,  and  appeared 
to  the  dallying  sultan  in  the  Water  Kastel  without 
announcement  or  further  ceremony,  and  with  still  less 
ceremony  seized  the  sultan  by  the  arm  and  led  him 
back  to  Dutch  headquarters,  where  the  interview 
took  place.  Another  version  of  this  Water  Kastel 
tradition  describes  the  mad  marshal  as  making  a  dash 
down  terraces  and  staircases  to  a  water-pavilion  sunk 
deep  in  foliage  at  the  edge  of  a  tank,  where,  in  a  shady 
cellar  of  a  sleeping-room,  shielded  and  cooled  by  a 
water  curtain  falling  in  front  of  it,  he  dragged  the 
sultan  from  his  bed,  and  carried  him  off  to  head- 
quarters. The  opas  and  the  chattering  old  guardian, 
who  led  us  about  the  Kastel's  labyrinths,  plunged  into 
the  green  gloom  of  a  long,  mossy  staircase  that  led 
to  the  platform  on  which  the  sultan's  sleeping-room 
opened,  to  show  us  the  "  unlucky  bed  "  and  prove  by 
it  their  particular  or  favored  version  of  the  irruption 
of  Marshal  Daendels.  The  bedstead  or  couch  is  an 
elaborately  carved  affair,  and  must  once  have  been  the 
chief  ornament  of  this  cool  cave-like  retreat;  but  in 
the  reek  and  gloom  of  the  late  afternoon  this  water 
boudoir  seemed  too  suggestive  of  rheumatism,  ma- 
laria, and  snakes  by  wholesale  to  invite  one  to  linger, 
or  to  suggest  repose  on  the  "  unlucky  bed,"  which  in- 
sures an  early  death  to  the  one  who  touches  it. 

Another  water-chamber  was  provided  in  the  Sumoor 
Gamelan  ("Musical  Spring"),  a  deep  circular  well  or 
tank  near  the  ruined  banquet-hall,  with  vaulted  cham- 


DJOKJAKARTA  277 

bers  opening  around  it— just  such  echoing  places  of 
green  twilight,  where  it  must  be  cool  on  the  hottest 
noonday,  as  one  may  see  in  the  old  palaces  at  Luck- 
now,  Futtehpore  Sikri,  and  Ahmedabad,  in  the  father- 
land whence  the  ruling  princes  of  Java  came.  There 
is,  too,  a  great  oval  tank  with  beautiful  walls,  para- 
pets, and  pavilions,  well  worthy  of  a  Hindu  palace ; 
and  in  this  secluded  place  there  lived  for  many  dec- 
ades a  sacred  white  or  dingy  yellow  turtle  with  red 
eyes,  an  albino  to  whom  the  people  made  offerings  and 
paid  homage.  The  Tainan  Sarie  has  great  fascination 
for  one,  and  at  sunset  something  of  romance  seems  to 
linger  in  the  old  gardens  and  grottoes,  the  picturesque 
courtyards  and  galleries ;  and  one  could  imagine  scores 
of  legends  and  harem's  mysteries  belonging  there— 
that  anything  and  everything  had  happened  there  by 
that  lake  that  burns  a  rose-red  when  the  palms  are 
silhouetted  against  the  high  sunset  sky.  A  group  of 
children  played  hide-and-seek  about  the  once  august 
court,  supple,  nimble  little  bronze  fauns,  with  the  care- 
fully folded  kerchiefs  on  their  heads  their  only  gar- 
ments—kerchiefs that  they  arrange  with  the  greatest 
care  and  deliberation  many  times  a  day,  holding  the 
ends  of  the  cloth  with  agile  toes  while  they  pat  and 
crease  and  coax  the  fine  folds  into  the  prescribed  order 
of  good  form.  These  children  dashed  through  the 
shrubberies,  leaped  balusters  and  walls  as  lightly  and 
easily  as  wild  creatures,  and  ran  up  tall  trees  like 
squirrels,  to  gather  tasseled  orchids  and  some  strange 
blue  flowers  that  we  pointed  to  with  suggestive  cop- 
pers, and  they  hailed  us  as  old  friends  when  we  came 
again. 


278    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

There  were  delightful  drives  to  be  taken  in  and 
around  Djokja  in  the  cool  of  the  afternoon,  the  tama- 
rind- and  waringen-shaded  streets  leading  to  bowery 
suburbs,  that  gave  wider  views  out  over  the  fertile 
plain  with  the  winding  Oepak  River,  or  toward  the 
beautiful  blue  mountain  cones  that  slumbered  to 
northward.  There  were  always  the  most  decorative 
palm-trees  in  the  right  place  to  outline  themselves 
against  the  rosy  sunset  sky,  and  the  drives  back  to  the 
hotel  through  the  quick  twilight  and  sudden  darkness 
gave  many  views  into  lamp-lighted  huts  and  houses 
—genre  pictures  of  native  life,  Dutch-Indies  interi- 
ors, where  candle-light  or  firelight  illuminated  family 
groups  and  women  at  their  homely  occupations,  that 
should  inspire  a  new,  a  tropical  school  of  Dutch 
painters.  The  graves  of  the  old  Hindu  princes  of 
Mataram  crown  a  beautiful  wooded  hill  south  of  the 
city  near  the  sea-shore,  and  are  still  worshiped  and 
garlanded  by  their  people. 

Through  our  now  near  friend,  august  patron,  and 
protector,  the  kindly  assistant  resident,  we  received 
word  at  sunrise  that  the  independent  Prince  Pakoe 
Alam  V  ("Axis  of  the  Universe")  and  his  family 
would  graciously  receive  us  the  next  morning  at  nine 
o'clock ;  and  that  meanwhile  our  patronage  was  invited 
for  a  topeng,  or  lyric  dance,  to  be  given  by  Prince  Pakoe 
Alam's  palace  troupe  on  that  evening  for  the  benefit 
of  the  widows  and  orphans  of  the  soldiers  killed  in  the 
Lombok  war.  This  Lombok  war  had  been  brought 
to  a  close  that  week  by  the  capture  of  the  treach- 
erous Balinese  sultan  who  had  so  tyrannized  over 
the  Sassaks,  and  was  then  on  his  way  to  be  paraded 


TYING  THE  TURBAX 


DJOKJAKAETA  281 

with  the  victorious  soldiers  before  the  governor-gen- 
eral in  a  grand  triumph  or  review  at  Batavia. 

I  had  a  long,  quiet  afternoon  at  the  Hotel  Toegoe  to 
give  again  to  the  enormous  folios  of  Wilsen's  drawings 
of  Boro  Boeder,  while  my  companions  napped,  the 
palm-branches  hung  motionless  in  the  garden,  and 
only  a  few  barefooted  servants  moved  without  sound 
—that  deathly  silence  of  tropic  afternoon  life  that  is 
sometimes  a  boon,  and  sometimes  an  exasperation  and 
irritation  to  one  accustomed  to  doing  his  sleeping  by 
dark  and  not  turning  day  into  night.  Finally  the  pale 
skeleton  of  an  invalid,  who  was  my  next  neighbor  on 
the  long  porch,  lifted  his  pitiful  voice,  and  was  helped 
out  to  his  chair,  and  then  our  imperturbable  Amat 
stirred  from  his  leisured  sleep  on  the  flags  beyond, 
meditated  for  a  while,  twisted  his  kerchief  turban 
anew,  disappeared,  and  returned  with  the  tea-tray, 
silent,  impassive,  and  automatic,  as  if  under  some  spell. 
A  graceful  little  woman  peddler  came  to  the  porch's 
edge— a  pretty,  gentle  creature  with  dark,  starry 
Hindu  eyes,  clear-cut  features,  even  little  white  teeth, 
and  crinkly  hair.  It  was  delight  enough  to  watch  this 
pretty  creature's  flash  of  eyes  and  teeth,  and  her  man- 
ners were  most  beguiling  as  she  proffered  her  sarongs 
—intricately  figured  batteks  from  Cheribon  and  Solo, 
silk  plaided  ones  from  Singapore,  and  those  of  Borneo 
shot  through  with  glittering  threads.  Nothing  could 
have  been  more  graceful  and  charming  than  the  naive 
appeals  of  the  little  peddler  woman,  and  nothing  could 
have  presented  more  extreme  and  unfortunate  con- 
trast than  to  have  the  sockless  and  waistless  young 
Dutch  matron  of  the  opposite  portico  step  down  and 


282    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

run  to  the  garden  gate  at  sound  of  a  military  band. 
Few  women  since  Atalanta's  time  have  been  able  to 
run  gracefully ;  and  this  thick-ankled  young  matron, 
with  her  flapping  mule  slippers,  scant  sarong,  and 
shapeless  jacket,  outdid  all  descriptions  and  carica- 
tures of  "the  woman  who  runs."  A  friendly  cavalier 
in  gaudy  battek  pajamas,  who  had  been  talking  to  the 
lady,  and  blowing  clouds  of  pipe-smoke  into  her  face 
the  while,  gaily  danced  an  elephantine  fandango  as 
the  band  went  sounding  down  the  street  to  give  its 
sunset  concert  in  the  park. 

When  tea  was  taken  to  the  lady's  porch  after  this 
divertisement,  she  took  a  banana  to  the  edge,  and 
called,  "  Peter !  Peter !  "  There  was  a  rustle  and  crash 
of  boughs  overhead,  and  a  great  ape,  nearly  the  size 
of  a  man,  swung  from  one  tree-branch  to  another, 
snatched  the  banana,  and  bounded  back  into  the  tree, 
where  it  peered  cunningly  at  us  while  he  ate.  After 
that  every  rustle  in  the  shrubbery  made  us  jump ;  we 
kept  umbrellas  at  hand  for  defense,  and  made  sol- 
emn compact  that  no  one  of  us  should  be  left  asleep 
unguarded  while  doors  and  windows  were  open  to 
this  dreadful  reminder  of  "  The  Murders  in  the  Rue 
Morgue." 


XXI 

PAKOE  ALAM:   THE   "AXIS  OF  THE  UNIVERSE" 

[S  the  lines  of  the  topeng-players  are  al- 
ways delivered  in  the  ancient  Kawi,  or 
classic  language  of  Java,  one  has  need 
to  brush  up  beforehand,  and  to  wish  for 
a  libretto,  a  book  of  the  opera,  to  keep 
in  hand  as  the  lyric  drama  progresses.  Sir  Stamford 
Raffles's  "History  of  Java"  furnishes  one  a  general 
glimpse  of  the  ancient  literature  of  the  island,  and  by 
many  translations  acquaints  one  with  the  great  epics. 
This  old  literature  is  Hindu  in  form  and  origin ;  and 
Kawi,  the  classic  or  literary  language  of  the  past,  in 
which  all  the  history,  early  records,  epic  and  legendary 
poems,  and  the  books  of  religion  and  the  law  are 
written,  is  closely  related  to  Sanskrit  and  Pah'.  The 
famous  myths  and  legends  of  India  are  included  in 
this  literature,  and  the  Eamayan  and  Mahabharata 
appear,  incomplete  but  unaltered,  in  the  Javanese 
epics  known  as  the  Kandas  and  the  Parvas.  Besides 
these  two  great  works,  there  is  the  "  Arjuna  Vivaya," 
giving  an  account  of  the  exploits  of  the  Indian 
Arjuna,  the  real  hero  of  the  Mahabharata;  and 

283 


284    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

there  is  still  another  romantic  legendary  poem, 
the  "  Bharata  Yuddha,"  in  which  many  of  the  inci- 
dents and  the  heroes  of  the  Mahabharata  are  pre- 
sented in  Javanese  settings  with  Javanese  names.  All 
these  Kawi  books  are  known  to  the  people  by  transla- 
tions in  modern  Javanese,  and  by  their  frequent  pre- 
sentation in  the  common  dramatic  entertainments,  the 
wayang-wayang,  or  shadow-plays,  of  even  the  smallest 
villages. 

Many  "  Books  of  Wisdom "  and  of  exhortation  to 
pious  and  righteous  living  survive  in  Kawi  liter- 
ature; but  with  all  that  Hindu  civilization  brought, 
it  bequeathed  nothing  that  could  be  called  Buddhist 
literature,  and  the  bulk  of  ancient  Javanese  literature 
is  decidedly  secular  and  profane — sentimental  and 
romantic  poems,  love-tales  in  verse,  that  continue  to 
extreme  lengths.  The  Arab  conquest  has  left  almost 
no  impress  upon  the  language.  Although  schools 
were  established,  and  a  considerable  body  of  Arabic 
literature  came  with  the  Mohammedan  conquerors, 
but  little  save  bababs,  romantic  chronicles  of  the  loves 
of  imaginary  princes  and  heroes,  have  been  added  to 
Javanese  literature  in  the  four  centuries  since  Islam's 
conquest.  The  spoken  language  of  the  Javanese  shows 
few  traces  of  Arabic,  and  the  written  language  is  also 
unchanged— a  neater,  more  beautiful  and  graceful  sys- 
tem of  ornamental  characters  than  either  Arabic  or 
Persian. 

The  old  Kawi  epics  are  popularized  by  the  theater, 
the  topeng,  and  the  common  wayang-wayang,  or 
shadow-dance  of  puppets,  where  a  manager  delivers 
the  well-known  lines.  Of  these  three  dramatic  forms 


PAKOE  ALAM :  THE  "AXIS  OF  THE  UNIVERSE"  287 

the  topeng  is  the  highest,  the  most  classic  and  refined 
presentation,  a  lyric  drama  very  like  the  No  dance  of 
Japan,  and  doubtless,  like  the  No  dance,  had  a  reli- 
gious origin.  A  topeng  troupe  has  its  dalang,  or  man- 
ager, who  prompts,  sometimes  explains,  and  often 
delivers  all  the  lines  for  the  masked  actors ;  and  there 
is  a  gamelan,  or  orchestra,  of  four  or  more  musicians, 
and  a  chorus  which  chants  accompanying  and  explan- 
atory verses  as  the  action  proceeds.  Great  princes 
maintain  their  own  private  topeng  troupes,  and  in 
their  palace  presentations,  and  always  in  the  presence 
of  native  royalties,  the  actors  go  without  masks.  The 
topeng's  gamelan  consists  of  two  sets  of  the  circles  of 
tiny  gongs  (gong  or  agong,  a  pure  Javanese  word  and 
instrument),  that  are  struck  with  wooden  sticks,  and 
two  wood  and  two  metal  gambang  kayu  (wood  and 
metal  bars  of  different  length  and  thickness  mounted 
on  a  boat-shaped  frame),  or  native  xylophones,  to  which 
single  instrument  the  name  "gamelan"  is  so  often 
given  in  the  West. 

The  common  wayang-wayang  of  the  people  is  a 
modification  of  the  same  masked  or  puppet  drama  that 
was  in  vogue  long  before  the  Mohammedan  conquest. 
As  the  religion  of  Islam  forbade  the  representation  of 
the  human  figure,  the  susunhan  ordered  the  puppets 
to  be  so  distorted  that  the  priests  could  not  call  them 
images  of  human  beings,  and  that  even  then  only 
their  shadows,  thrown  on  a  curtain,  should  be  seen. 
Hence  the  exaggerated  heads,  the  beaks  and  noses,  of 
the  cardboard  jumping-jacks  which,  pulled  by  unseen 
strings,  serve  to  maintain  an  interest  in  the  national 
history  and  legends,  and  by  preludes  and  lines,  chanted 


288     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

in  classic  Kawi,  preserve  acquaintance  with  the  liter- 
ary language  among  the  common  people.  There  is  a 
form  of  wayang-wayang  half-way  between  this  puppet- 
show  and  the  real  drama,  in  which  the  actors  them- 
selves are  visible,  wearing  distorted  masks;  but  the 
plays  are  of  modern  times,  in  the  common  dialect,  and 
the  manager  often  improvises  his  lines  and  scenes  as 
the  play  progresses.  With  these  popular  dramas  there 
rank  the  performances  of  the  graceful  bedaya,  or  danc- 
ing-girl, whose  tightly  folded  sarong,  floating  scarf- 
ends,  measured  steps,  outward  sweep  of  the  hand,  and 
charming  play  of  arm  and  wrist  recall  the  Japanese 
maiko.  Although  the  winsome  bedaya  is  sculptured 
on  Boro  Boeder's  recording  walls,  there  is  nothing 
there  to  indicate  the  puppet-play,  nor  anything  from 
which  it  might  have  evolved,  although  from  other  rec- 
ords ethnologists  claim  that  the  Javanese  possessed 
this  dramatic  art  when  the  Hindus  came.  A  love  of 
the  drama  in  the  form  of  the  topeng  and  the  way  an  g- 
wagang  was  so  ingrained  in  the  tastes  and  fixed  in  the 
customs  of  the  people  that  the  Mohammedan  con- 
querors could  not  suppress  those  popular  amusements, 
and  were  finally  content  to  modify  them  in  trifling 
points.  The  Dutch  were  also  wise  enough  never  to 
interfere  with  these  harmless  pleasures  of  the  people, 
the  greatest  distraction  and  delight  of  these  sensitive, 
emotional,  innately  esthetic  and  refined  Javanese,  who 
will  sit  through  shadow-plays  for  half  the  night,  and 
are  moved  to  frenzy  and  tears  by  the  martial  and  ro- 
mantic exploits  of  their  national  heroes. 

All  of  society,— the  two  hundred  of  Djokja's  supe- 
rior circle,— European  and  native  together,  gathered  at 


PAKOE  ALAM:  THE  "AXIS  OF  THE  UNIVERSE"  289 

the  Societeit's  marble  hall  on  the  night  of  the  topeng. 
That  exalted  being,  the  resident,  entered  in  his  mod- 
estly gilded  uniform;  and  all  the  company  rose,  and 
stood  until  he  and  Prince  Pakoe  Alain  had  advanced 
and  seated  themselves  in  the  two  arm-chairs  placed 
in  front  of  the  chairs  of  the  rest  of  the  audience. 
"  Our  best  people  are  all  here  to-night,"  said  our  ami- 
able table  d'hote  acquaintance  of  the  Hotel  Toegoe; 
and  we  looked  around  the  lofty  white  hall,  where 
row  upon  row  of  robust,  prosperous-looking  Europe- 
ans sat  in  state  attire.  All  the  men  wore  heavy  cloth 
coats,  either  richly  frogged  military  jackets  or  the  civil- 
ian's frock  or  cutaway,  only  a  few  wearing  conven- 
tional black  dress-coats,  and  none  the  rational  white 
duck  clothes  of  the  tropics.  The  Dutch  ladies  were 
dressed  in  rich  silks,  brocades,  and  even  velvets,  and 
fanned  vigorously  as  a  natural  consequence,  while 
more  of  mildew  fumes  than  of  sachet  odors  came 
from  these  heavy  cloth  and  silk  garments,  whose  care 
and  preservation  are  so  difficult  in  the  tropics.  One 
was  reminded  of  those  tropical  burghers  in  crimson 
velvet  coats  who  received  Lord  Macartney  and  Staun- 
ton  in  a  red  velvet  council-room  at  Batavia  just  one 
century  before.  The  native  officers  and  their  families 
were  naturally  more  interesting  to  a  stranger — splen- 
did-looking Javanese  men,  who  stood  and  walked  like 
kings,  all  wearing  the  battek  kerchief  or  turban  folded 
in  myriad  fine  plaitings,  richly  patterned  sarongs,  and 
the  boat-handled  kris  showing  at  the  back  of  the  short 
black  military  jacket.  Many  of  these  native  officials 
had  constellations  of  stars  and  decorations  pinned  to 
their  breasts,  and  their  finely  cut  features,  noble  mien, 

15 


290    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

and  graceful  manners  declared  them  aristocrats  and 
the  fine  flower  of  an  old  race.  Their  wives,  shy,  slen- 
der, graceful  women  in  clinging  sarongs  and  the  dis- 
figuring Dutch  jacket,  wore  many  clasps  and  buckles 
and  jeweled  knobs  of  ear-rings.  They  seemed  to  have 
inherited  all  the  Hindu  love  of  glittering,  glowing 
jewels,  and  the  Buddhist  love  of  flowers  and  perfumes, 
each  little  starry-eyed,  flower-like  woman  redolent  of 
rose  or  jasmine  attar,  and  wearing  some  brilliant  blos- 
som in  the  knot  of  satin-black  hair.  The  women  had 
thrust  their  pretty  brown  feet  into  gold-heeled  mule 
slippers,  that  clicked  musically  on  the  tiles  as  they 
walked,  while  the  children  comfortably  rubbed  their 
bare  feet  on  the  cool  white  floor. 

A  few  Chinese  families,  nearly  all  of  them  Para- 
naks,  or  half-castes,  to  the  island  born,  were  there ; 
the  women  in  gay  embroidered  satins,  jeweled  and 
diamonded  out  of  all  reason,  and  the  children  gay  as 
cockatoos  and  parrakeets  in  their  bright  little  coats 
and  caps  and  talismanic  ornaments.  Rows  of  shad- 
owy, silent  natives,  opas,  lantern-  and  pajong-bearers, 
and  attendants  of  every  kind,  crouched  in  rows  among 
the  great  columns  of  the  portico— gallery  gods  who 
squatted  spellbound,  rapt,  and  freely  tearful  in  their 
enjoyment  of  the  splendid  topeng  produced  that  night. 

Prince  Pakoe  Alam's  artists  rendered  for  the  sake 
of  military  charities  a  four-act  lyric  drama,  dealing 
with  the  adventures  of  mythical  Panji,  a  hero  of  Hindu 
times,  who  is  said  to  have  introduced  the  kris  to  Java. 
The  gamelan's  music  was  all  soft  harmonies,  tender, 
weird,  sad  melodies  in  plaintive  minor  key,  that  ac- 
companied the  action  throughout.  The  high-pitched 


PAKOE  ALAM:  THE  "AXIS  OF  THE  UNIVERSE"  293 

nasal  recitatives,  the  squeaks  and  squawks  and  stamps 
of  fencing  warriors,  the  slow  posing,  the  stilted  and 
automatic  movements  of  all  the  actors,  were  enough 
like  the  No  dance  of  Japan  to  confuse  one  greatly. 
All  the  actors  were  magnificently  costumed  and  ac- 
coutred, their  dresses,  armor,  and  weapons  being  his- 
toric properties  of  the  Pakoe  Alain  family,  that  had 
figured  on  festal  occasions  in  the  topengs  of  a  century 
and  more.  In  the  first  act  four  women  in  silk  sarongs 
and  velvet  jackets  did  a  regular  Delsarte  dance,  with 
all  those  theatrical  poses,  sweeps,  and  gestures  with 
the  devitalized  arm  and  wrist  that  the  trainers  of  the 
would-be  beautiful  are  teaching  in  America.  Dark- 
robed  attendants,  identical  with  the  mutes  and  invis- 
ible supers  of  the  Japanese  stage,  crawled  around  be- 
hind the  principals,  arranging  costumes,  handing  and 
carrying  away  weapons,  as  needed.  Then  deliberate 
mortal  combat  raged  to  slow  music ;  and  after  it  the 
harmless  automatic  dance  was  resumed.  There  was 
one  tedious  act  where  warriors  in  modern  military 
jackets,  worn  with  sarongs,  indulged  in  long-drawn 
recitatives  in  Kawi ;  there  were  prolonged  fan,  spear, 
and  bow  drills ;  and  one  fine  final  act,  where  heroes, 
stripped  to  the  waist  in  old  style,  with  bodies  powdered 
yellow,  and  half  protected  by  gorgeously  gilded  breast- 
plates, fenced  with  fury  and  some  earnest. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  act  nearly  every  man  in  the 
audience  rose  and  went  out,  each  mopping  his  brows 
and  whewing  great  breaths  of  air  from  his  lungs. 
Some  few  returned  with  cups  of  coffee,  glasses  of  pink 
lemonade,  and  tall  beakers  of  soda-water  for  the  per- 
spiring ladies  wedged  in  their  chairs.  These  men 


294    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

stayed  outside  after  that  act,  declaring  themselves 
only  during  intermissions,  when  they  rushed  cooling 
drinks  to  their  partners  at  the  front.  At  the  end  of 
three  hours  Panji  triumphed  over  all  his  enemies,  the 
performance  ended,  chairs  scraped  loudly  as  the  audi- 
ence stirred,  the  applause  was  long,  and  the  sighs  of 
relief  profound. 

After  the  resident  had  made  the  tour  of  the  room 
and  honored  the  most  distinguished  ones,  and  the  Eu- 
ropean dancing  was  about  to  begin,  the  native  ladies 
withdrew ;  and  as  we  saw  these  most  interesting  fig- 
ures leaving,  we,  who  had  risen  at  five  o'clock  that 
morning,  and  expected  to  repeat  the  act  the  next 
morning,  followed  the  beauties  in  golden  slippers  out 
to  the  picturesque  confusion  of  lantern-  and  pajong- 
bearers  at  the  carriage  entrance.  Dancing  as  it  is 
done  in  Djokja  could  not  keep  us  longer  awake  that 
night,  though  we  have  regretted  ever  since  that  we  did 
not  wait  to  see  how  many  of  the  broadcloth-coated  men 
and  their  partners  in  winter  gowns  survived  one  vig- 
orous continental  waltz  on  a  marble  floor,  or  if  an 
anteroom  was  converted  into  an  emergency  hospital 
for  treating  heat  prostrations. 

With  the  exemplary  early  rising  the  tropics  enjoin, 
we  had  been  up  for  hours— had  enjoyed  the  dash  of  a 
dipper-bath,  breakfasted,  written  letters,  visited  the 
passer,  the  pawnshops,  and  the  photographer— before 
it  was  time  to  join  the  assistant  resident's  party  and 
drive  to  the  palace  of  Prince  Pakoe  Alam.  The  car- 
riages went  through  several  gateways,  past  a  guard 
house  and  sentries,  before  they  drew  up  in  an  inner 
court  before  an  open  pringitan,  or  audience-hall,  eighty 


PAKOE  ALAM:  THE  "AXIS  OF  THE  UNIVERSE"  295 

feet  square,  whose  great,  low-spreading  roof,  resting 
only  on  heavy  teak  columns,  was  all  open  to  the  air. 
The  prince,  his  crown  prince,  and  his  second  son,  who 
is  the  father's  aide-de-camp,  were  waiting  to  receive 
us  as  we  alighted,  all  three  dressed  in  conventional 
European  military  uniforms,  with  many  medals  and 
orders  illuminating  their  coat  fronts,  and  only  the 
native  turban  on  the  old  prince's  head  suggesting  any- 
thing Javanese  in  attire.  The  prince  spoke  Dutch,  his 
sons  English  and  French  as  well  as  Dutch ;  and  each 
gave  us  cordial  welcome  and  courteous  greetings  be- 
fore they  offered  an  arm  to  conduct  us  back  to  the  cool 
inner  part  of  the  pringitan,  where  the  young  princesses 
were  waiting.  We  went  far  in  over  the  shining  mar- 
ble floor,  away  from  all  glare  and  reflection  of  the  vast 
sanded  court,  to  a  region  of  tempered  shadow,  where 
the  wife,  a  daughter-in-law,  and  a  granddaughter  of 
the  prince  stood  beside  a  formal  semicircle  of  chairs. 
The  ladies  spoke  only  Dutch  and  Malay,  but  they  did 
the  honors  most  gracefully,  and  with  the  two  princes  to 
interpret,  conversation  moved  along  smoothly.  These 
princesses  wore  sarongs  and  jackets  and  gilded  mule 
slippers,  but  their  simple  costumes  were  brightened 
by  many  jeweled  clasps  and  brooches  and  great,  glit- 
tering knobs  of  ear-rings,  and  both  had  coronals  of 
pale-yellow  flowers  around  the  knot  of  black  hair 
drawn  low  at  the  back  of  the  head,  in  foreign  style. 
Their  complexions  were  the  pure  pale  yellow  of  the 
true  Javanese  aristocracy,  not  the  pasty  greenish  yel- 
low of  the  higher-class  women  of  China.  They  had 
very  pretty  manners,  combining  gentleness  and  dig- 
nity, and  they  put  the  conventional  questions  as  to 


296    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

our  homes  and  journeys  with  great  earnestness  and 
seeming  interest. 

The  old  prince,  whose  high  military  rank  makes  him 
an  offset  and  check  upon  the  Sultan  of  Djokja,  and 
who,  by  his  lineage  and  connections  with  the  imperial 
house  of  Solo,  almost  ranks  the  sultan,  is  very  liter- 
ally a  serene  highness,  a  most  gracious  and  courtly 
host,  whose  dignity  and  charming  address  befit  his 
rank  and  exalted  name.  His  lands  and  mills  and 
highly  improved  estates  bring  him  a  large  private 
income ;  and  progressive  as  he  may  be,  I  am  sure  his 
people  speak  of  him  admiringly  as  a  gentleman  of  the 
old  school— and  that  old  school  must  have  been  an 
admirable  one  in  Java,  where  the  native  manners  are 
as  fine  as  in  Japan.  Prince  Pakoe  Alam  received  a 
foreign  military  education  in  his  youth,  and  his  sons 
have  enjoyed  still  greater  advantages  to  fit  them  for 
the  still  newer  order.  They  are  the  most  charming, 
natural,  and  unaffected  young  men,  unspoiled  and 
with  truly  princely  mien  and  manners.  To  be  told 
hereafter  that  a  young  man  has  the  manners  of  a 
prince  will  mean  a  great  deal  in  simple  courtesy,  fine 
finish,  and  perfection,  to  those  who  remember  these 
Javanese  princes,  the  handsome  young  Pakoe  Alams. 
The  natural  refinement  and  charm  that  one  is  sen- 
sible of  in  even  the  lowliest  Javanese  have  their  full- 
est and  finest  flowering  in  these  princely  ones;  and 
that  delightful  hour  spent  in  the  vast  shady  white 
pringitan  offset  many  misadventures  in  Java. 

Rows  of  red-coated  and  -cowled  servitors  sat  around 
the  edges  of  the  pringitan's  shining  floor,  holding  the 
state  pajongs  and  hooded  spears  of  ceremony ;  and  a 


PAKOE  ALAM:  THE  "AXIS  OF  THE  UNIVERSE"  297 

full  gamelan  and  a  group  of  singers,  in  the  same  bright 
court  livery,  squatted  in  rows  facing  us  at  the  far  front 
of  the  hall,  awaiting  the  signal  to  begin.  The  art- 
ists of  the  previous  night,  all  the  singers  and  musi- 
cians of  the  full  topeng  troupe,  lifted  up  their  voices 
to  the  tinkling,  softly  booming,  sonorous  airs  of  the 
gamelan  and  delighted  us  with  a  succession  of  chants 
throughout  our  stay.  The  young  princes  led  us  "  down 
front," — for  the  whole  strange  scene  in  which  we  found 
ourselves  was  very  like  a  theater,— and,  in  the  strong 
glare  of  the  footlights  of  daylight,  explained  the  sev- 
eral instruments  of  the  native  orchestra.  Then  in 
from  the  wings—  "  enter  right,"  as  the  play-books  would 
say— came  a  procession  of  servants,  swinging  racks  of 
decanters  and  glasses,  and  bearing  bowls  of  ice,  trays 
of  fruits,  wafers,  and  sweets.  Abject  minions  sidled 
over  the  floor,  and  mutely  offered  us  iced  wines  or 
aerated  waters,  moving  awkwardly  about  in  the  ig- 
nominious attitude  of  the  dodok,  like  so  many  land- 
crabs.  "Light-boys"  crouched  and  crawled  behind 
each  smoker,  handing  cigars,  holding  burning  punk- 
sticks,  or  extending  trays  to  receive  the  ashes,  main- 
taining their  abject  position  during  all  our  stay.  One 
never  gets  used  to  this  abasement  of  the  dodok,  often 
as  he  may  see  it;  and  after  the  first  absurdity  and 
humor  of  it  wears  off,  it  is  irritating  and  humiliating 
to  see  one  human  being  thus  belittle  himself  before 
another.  One  suspects  that  there  was  more  of  fear 
than  reverence  in  its  first  observance,  and  that  it  comes 
from  centuries  of  tyranny  and  oppression  rather  than 
from  any  spontaneous  expressions  of  humility  and  ad- 
miration. This  group  of  household  retainers,  sidling 


298    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

and  jerking  over  the  floor  with  something  between  the 
gait  of  a  toad  and  a  crab,  seemed  to  mar  the  perfect 
dignity  and  decorum  of  the  occasion.  These  same 
attendants  strode  into  the  sunlit  court  with  the  free, 
splendid  tread  of  Javanese  men,  only  to  crouch  to  their 
heels  at  the  pringitan's  edge,  make  the  simbah's  im- 
ploring obeisance  with  clasped  hands  to  the  forehead, 
repeating  the  simbah  if  they  caught  a  princely  eye, 
while  they  sidled  grotesquely  over  the  pringitan  floor 
and  crouched  like  dogs  at  the  master's  feet. 

There  was  a  carved  screen  behind  us,  closing  off  an 
inner  space,  where  broad  divans  invited  to  informal 
ease,  and  many  beautiful  objects  were  disposed.  We 
were  taken  there  by  the  old  prince  to  see  the  great  gold- 
bound  "  Menac,"  or  family  record  of  the  Pakoe  Alams 
— an  immense  volume  with  jeweled  covers,  resting  on 
a  yellow  satin  cushion.  This  family  history  was  put 
in  this  splendid  form  a  hundred  years  ago  by  Prince 
Pakoe  Alam  II,  a  literary  highness  who  possessed 
considerable  artistic  talent,  and  maintained  a  staff  of 
artists  and  writers  in  his  palace,  who  were  busied  for 
years  in  tracing  and  illuminating,  under  his  instruc- 
tions, this  one  precious  manuscript.  Javanese  callig- 
raphy, which  is  even  more  decorative  and  ornamental 
than  Arabic  or  Persian,  makes  beautiful  pages ;  and 
each  page,  gracefully  written  in  black,  gold,  or  colors, 
is  also  bordered  and  illuminated  more  lavishly  than 
any  old  Flemish  missal.  The  beautiful  ornamental 
letters,  medallions,  and  miniatures,  the  tangle  of  grace- 
ful arabesques,  and  the  glow  of  soft  colors  and  gold, 
relieved  with  touches  and  dashes  of  black,  make  the 
Pakoe  Alain's  "  Menac  "  a  treasure  of  delight  for  a  whole 


PAKOE  ALAM:  THE  "AXIS  OF  THE  UNIVERSE"  299 

morning's  inspection ;  but  we  had  only  time  to  turn 
its  leaves,  see  the  more  remarkable  pages,  and  obtain 
a  general  dazzling  idea  of  its  quality.  The  "  Axis  of 
the  Universe  "  is  a  bibliophile  and  collector  by  inheri- 
tance, and  there  were  many  precious  manuscript  books, 
unique  editions  de  luxe  in  jeweled  bindings,  that  we 
could  have  given  hours  to  inspecting.  There  is  one 
particular  book  of  Arabian  tales,  rivaling  the  family 
"  Menac  "  in  the  beautiful  lettering  and  rich  illumina- 
tion, that  was  sent  to  the  Amsterdam  Colonial  Exposi- 
tion some  years  ago,  and  naturally  excited  surprise 
and  admiration  among  European  book-collectors. 

Conversation  never  lagged  during  this  morning  call, 
and  the  little  second  prince  was  regretful  that  we  had 
given  up  a  trip  to  the  sweltering  end  of  the  island, 
where  the  Bromo  smokes.  "  The  Bromo  is  the  only 
'  lake  of  fire '  in  the  world,  you  know,"  said  the  prince, 
proudly.  And  soon  after,  in  answer  to  a  question,  he 
said,  "No,  I  have  never  been  in  Europe,  but  I  have 
been  all  over  Java"— this  last  with  an  emphasis  that 
became  one  to  the  island  born,  and  appreciative  of  all 
its  wonderful  beauties. 

When  we  praised  and  extolled  the  scenery  of  Java, 
he  asked  naively,  "Is  America  not  beautiful,  then? 
Have  you  no  mountains,  no  beautiful  scenery  there  ? " 
And  when  we  answered  patriotically  to  the  facts, — 
Niagara,  the  Yellowstone,  the  Yosemite,  Mount  Rainier, 
and  Alaska,— he  asked  in  amazement,  "  Then  why  do 
you  travel  to  other  countries  ? " 

The  old  prince  announced  the  approaching  marriage 
of  his  granddaughter  to  the  son  of  the  Prince  of  Ma- 
lang,  and  asked  that  we  would  attend  the  fe"tes  which 


300    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

he  would  give  in  celebration  of  the  affair  a  fortnight 
later ;  but  with  all  of  the  other  India  beckoning,  we 
could  not  prolong  our  stay  in  Java ;  and  we  took  leave 
of  our  princely  hosts  then,  to  hasten  to  the  train,  prom- 
ising, as  one  always  does  in  every  pleasant  place,  to 
come  again  when  time  would  allow  for  a  fuller  enjoy- 
ment of  this  Javanese  Djokja,  that  we  had  only  begun 
to  know  as  we  were  leaving. 


XXII 

"TJILATJAP,"  "CHALACHAP,"  "CHELACHAP" 

JILATJAP!  Tjilatjap ! "  Often  as  one 
may  sound  those  syllables  aloud,  they 
seem  absurd ;  and  the  very  idea  of  spend- 
ing the  night  in  a  town  of  such  name, 
of  buying  a  railway  ticket  with  that 
name  printed  on  it,  and  asking  to  have  one's  luggage 
labeled  to  that  destination,  was  enough  to  tickle  the 
fancy.  Could  there  be  solemn  men  and  serious  women 
living  there?  and  had  the  station  a  sign-board?  and 
could  the  pale,  grave  little  Dutch  children  keep  their 
faces  straight  and  glibly  pronounce  the  name  of  that 
town  without  sneezing? 

Whether  it  is  printed  "  Tjilatjap,"  "  Chalachap,"  or 
"  Chelachap,"  it  at  once  suggests  enough  puns  to  spare 
one  printing  them,  and  surely  no  town  on  the  north 
side  of  the  equator  could  support  such  a  name  with 
any  dignity. 

But  Tjilatjap  is  one  of  the  oldest  foreign  settlements 
in  Java,  the  one  good  harbor  on  the  whole  south  coast ; 
and  the  "  Tjilatjap  fever"  is  a  distinguished  specialty  of 
the  region  that  surpasses  all  the  deadly  forms  of  fever 

301 


302    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

in  Java.  The  place  proved  to  be  such  a  cemetery  for 
European  troops  that  the  government  was  finally 
forced  to  abandon  the  extensive  barracks,  magazines, 
and  fortifications  it  had  once  constructed  there.  A  con- 
siderable white  population  remains,  however,  and  the 
passer  is  one  of  great  local  importance  to  the  natives. 
The  completion  of  the  railway  brought  new  life  to  the 
old  settlement ;  and  with  such  easy  access,  Tjilatjap  is 
well  worth  visiting,  if  it  were  only  to  see  its  shade- trees. 
All  the  post-roads  running  into  the  town,  every  street 
and  lane,  are  such  continuous  isles,  arcades,  and  tun- 
nels of  living  green  that  one  is  repaid  for  coming,  even 
after  all  the  other  teak  and  tamarind,  kanari  and  wa- 
ringen  avenues  he  may  have  seen  elsewhere  in  Java. 
Not  the  allies  of  Versailles,  nor  the  cryptomeria  ave- 
nues of  Japan,  can  surpass  these  tree-lined  streets  of 
Tjilatjap,  the  endless  vistas  of  straight  trunks  and 
arching  branches,  the  lofty  canopies  of  solid,  impene- 
trable shade,  rejoicing  one  in  every  part  of  the  town. 
Tamarind  may  be  the  coolest  and  waringen  the  densest 
shade,  but  kanari-trees  give  the  most  splendid  and 
inspiring  effect,  and  Tjilatjap  is  the  place  of  their 
greatest  perfection. 

We  drove  during  the  late  afternoon  and  until  dusk 
through  kanari  avenues,  whose  great  green  cathedral 
aisles,  with  fretted  arches  a  hundred  feet  overhead, 
dwarfed  everything  that  moved  or  stood  beneath  them ; 
and  then  under  cool,  feathery  tamarind  bowers,  and 
past  arrays  of  noble  teak,  everywhere  exclaiming  with 
delight.  The  use  of  the  big-leaved  teak  for  street  and 
post-road  shade-trees  seemed  to  me  the  acme  of  botan- 
ical extravagance,— as  ill  ordered  as  putting  Pegasus 


"TJILATJAP,"  "CHALACHAP,"  "CHELACHAP"    303 

to  a  cart,— since  we  of  the  temperate  zone  are  used  to 
even  speaking  of  that  expensive  timber  with  respect. 
While  we  drove  through  the  magnificent  avenues  in 
the  late  afternoon  light,  past  parade-grounds  and 
parks,  over  canals  and  along  their  embankments,  the 
rising  mists  and  the  solid  blue  vapors  massing  in  the 
distances  were  so  much  actual,  visible  evil— malaria 
almost  in  tangible  form.  One  felt  that  he  should  dine 
on  so  many  courses  of  quinine  only,  taking  the  saving 
sulphate  first  with  a  soup-spoon,  if  he  expected  to  sur- 
vive the  mad  venture  into  Tjilatjap's  fever-laden  air. 
A  crowded,  neglected  cemetery  gave  one  further  creeps 
and  gruesome  thoughts ;  and  the  evil-smelling  sugar 
and  copra  warehouses  on  the  harbor  front  seemed  to 
seal  our  doom— that  old  ignorant  instinct  or  idea  as- 
serting itself  that  the  bad  smell  must  necessarily  be 
the  bad  air.  There  is  a  beautiful  view  from  the  old 
military  encampment  out  over  the  land-locked  harbor, 
with  a  glimpse  of  the  open  ocean  through  a  narrow  en- 
trance. The  dark  mass  of  Noesa  Kambangan  ( "  Float- 
ing Island")  rises  beyond  the  silvery  waters — a  tropical 
paradise  deliberately  depopulated  by  the  Dutch  as  a 
strategic  measure,  that  there  might  be  no  temptation 
of  sustenance  to  induce  an  attack  or  siege  from  that 
quarter.  The  island  is  mountainous,  and  contains 
much  fine  scenery,  many  floral  marvels,  curious  sta- 
lactite caverns  of  holy  repute  where  Siva  is  secretly 
worshiped,  hot  springs,  and  even  gold-mines,  and  is 
famous  in  the  old  Javanese  poems  and  legends.  The 
great  surf  of  the  Indian  Ocean  beats  upon  its  pre- 
cipitous south  shore,  where  the  clefts  and  caves  in  the 
bold  cliffs  are  inhabited  by  myriads  of  sparrows,  who 


304     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

build  there  their  edible  nests.  Nest-hunting  furnishes 
employment  to  the  few  islanders,  and,  like  everything 
else,  is  strictly  regulated  and  taxed  by  the  colonial  gov- 
ernment. The  nest-hunters  only  pursue  their  perilous 
quest  after  the  young  sparrows  are  well  grown  each 
season,  as  only  new,  fresh,  one-season-old  nests  serve 
to  make  the  "  bad  vermicelli"  soup  Celestial  gourmets 
adore ;  and  the  hunters  are  often  suspended  over 
the  cliffs  by  ropes  in  order  to  reach  their  carefully 
hidden  homes.  The  glutinous  white  lumps  are  as 
much  esteemed  in  Java  as  in  China,  and  this  rare 
dainty  commands  a  high  price  from  the  moment  it  is 
secured. 

There  is  a  typical  little  country  colonial  hotel  at  Tji- 
latjap— a  large  building  containing  the  offices,  draw- 
ing-room, and  dining-room  in  the  center  of  a  garden, 
with  long,  low  buildings  at  either  side  of  it,  where  rows 
of  bedrooms  open  upon  the  long  arcade  or  bricked 
porch,  which  is  a  general  corridor,  screened  off  into  as 
many  little  open  sitting-rooms,  each  with  its  table, 
lamp,  and  lounging-chairs.  After  our  malarial  drive 
we  were  served  an  excellent  dinner,  which  concluded 
with  a  dessert  course  of  kanari  ambon,  the  "Java 
almond,"  or  nut  of  the  kanari-tree,  soaked  in  brandy. 
The  kanari  ambon  has  the  shape  and  shell  of  a  butter- 
nut ;  but  the  long,  solid  white  kernel  is  finer  and  firmer 
than  even  an  almond,  and  of  a  richer,  more  distinct 
and  delicate  flavor.  These  nuts  of  the  Tjilatjap  region 
are  superior  to  those  grown  elsewhere  in  Java,  but  we 
learned  this  too  late,  when  we  tried  to  buy  them  else- 
where. 

After  the  sun  fell  the  air  grew  heavier  and  hotter— 


"TJILATJAP,"  "CHALACHAP,"  "CHELACHAP"    306 

a  stifling,  sodden,  steaming,  reeking  atmosphere  of 
evil  that  one  could  hardly  force  in  and  out  of  the 
lungs.  We  gasped  at  intervals  all  through  the  long 
evening,  and  wondered  if  some  vast  vacuum  bell  had 
not  been  dropped  down  over  Tjilatjap,  while  we  batted 
flying  things  from  our  faces  and  swept  them  from  the 
writing-table.  Lizards  ran  over  the  walls,  of  course ; 
and  one  pale-gray,  clammy  thing  was  picked  from  the 
bed-curtains,  and  thrown  out  with  a  sickening  "  ugh  !  " 
The  invisible  one,  in  agony,  called  for  "  Becky  !  Becky ! 
Becky ! "  and  a  hoarser  voice  cried  for  "  ToJcee !  ToJcee ! 
ToJcee  !  "  of  whom  we  had  never  heard  before. 

Wearily,  without  rustle  of  leaves,  stir,  or  any  provo- 
cation, a  sullen  rain  began  to  fall,  and  saturating  the 
atmosphere,  made  it  that  much  heavier.  The  rain 
ceased  as  wearily  as  it  had  begun,  and  the  awful, 
sodden  stillness  was  only  broken  by  the  slow,  heavy 
drip  of  the  listless  foliage,  and  the  occasional  thud  of 
a  falling  mango.  Far,  far  away,  faintly  in  the  air 
was  heard  a  smothered  booming,  moaning  sound— the 
ceaseless  surf  of  the  Indian  Ocean.  Overhead  there 
was  darkness,  profound  and  intense,  beyond  even  heat- 
lightning's  illumining,  with  a  more  impenetrable  black- 
ness where  the  double  rows  of  ancient  kanari-trees 
shaded  the  street  beyond  the  hotel  garden.  The  pos- 
sibilities of  its  effects,  the  awful,  desperate  depression 
that  loneliness  in  such  surroundings  would  surely 
cause,  made  me  wonder  how  great  was  the  proportion 
of  suicides'  graves  in  that  damp,  weedy  cemetery  we 
had  driven  past  in  the  gloaming. 

Then  three  guests  came  over  from  the  other  part  of 
the  hotel,  and,  spreading  themselves  out  on  chairs  in 


306     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

the  section  of  porch  beyond  our  partition  screen,  be- 
gan conversation,  all  in  Dutch  consonants  and  palatal 
garglings,  with  a  volume  and  lung-power,  a  fervor 
and  emphasis,  that  made  the  languid  air  vibrate  and 
the  mangos  fall  in  showers.  Their  voices  could  have 
easily  been  heard  at  the  harbor's  edge  or  the  railway- 
station,  in  a  stamp-mill  or  in  a  boiler  factory ;  and  the 
humor  of  it— the  three  Dutchmen  in  the  stilly  night 
bellowing  away  as  if  conversing  through  a  half-mile 
of  fog — greatly  relieved  the  sodden  melancholy  of  the 
malarial  evening.  Clouds  of  dense,  rank,  Sumatra 
tobacco-smoke  rose  from  the  talkers'  mouths  in  vol- 
umes to  match  their  voices,  and  until  long  past  mid- 
night those  three  men  on  a  silent  porch  conversed 
more  Hollandico,  the  roar  of  voices  and  the  pungent 
smoke  sending  us  dreams  of  Chicago  fires  and  riots, 
passing  freight-trains,  and  burning  forests. 

We  had  been  warned  betimes  that  there  would 
be  no  opportunity  to  lunch  at  wayside  stations  or 
from  compartment  baskets  during  the  long  ride  from 
Tjilatjap  to  Garoet,  and  we  planned  accordingly.  Our 
gentle  Moslem,  who  made  such  inconsequent,  irre- 
sponsible child's  play  at  waiting  on  us,  was  shown  the 
bread  and  the  cold  buffalo  beef,  and  bidden  make 
sandwiches  in  plenty.  I  even  went  into  details  as  to 
salt  and  pepper,  the  "mustard"  and  "no  mustard" 
varieties,  and  insisted  on  white  paper  only  for  wrap- 
ping, before  leaving  him  to  the  task. 

After  all  Tjilatjap's  evil  name,  we  never  had  any  ill 
effects  from  venturing  into  it,  and  we  had  a  sense  of 
complacent  rejoicing  when  we  took  train,  that  next 
morning,  for  Maos  on  the  main  line  of  the  railway, 


"TJILATJAP,"  "CHALACHAP,"  "CHELACHAP"    307 

and  knew  that  a  few  hours  would  put  us  beyond  the 
terra  ingratti. 

Nearly  always,  in  our  railway  rides  in  Java,  we  had 
the  first-class  compartments  to  ourselves;  and  we 
often  looked  longingly,  despite  the  heat,  at  the  crowded 
second-class  compartments,  where  many  Europeans, 
nice,  intelligent-looking  people  and  interesting  fami- 
lies, traveled  in  sociable  numbers.  The  only  compan- 
ions ever  of  our  first-class  solitude  were,  once,  the  chief 
constructor  of  the  railways,  who  for  a  sudden  short 
trip  had  dispensed  with  his  official  car ;  and,  again,  a 
young  Holland  geologist  and  mining  expert  returning 
from  a  season's  survey  in  Borneo— both  traveling  at 
government  expense.  Only  the  more  extravagant 
planters,  native  princes,  tourists,  and  officials  with 
passes  or  under  orders  seem  to  use  the  first-class  cars, 
although  the  additional  comforts  and  the  extra  space 
are  actual  necessaries  of  travel  in  the  tropics.  That 
the  second-class  carriages  were  always  well  filled  with 
Europeans  showed  that  at  least  one  thrifty  notion  of 
the  Hollanders'  home  survived  transplantation  in  this 
matter  of  railway  fares.  From  the  two  chance  fellow- 
passengers  whom  we  had  the  fortune  to  meet  on  the 
train  I  derived  enough,  by  a  day's  steady  questioning 
and  comment,  to  atone  for  the  dearth  of  travelers' 
talk  I  had  suffered  before.  Both  men  were  cyclope- 
dias of  things  Javanese,  geologic  and  botanical,  and 
those  were  very  red-letter  days  in  the  guide-bookless 
land. 

There  was  always  interest  enough  in  watching  the 
people  by  the  way ;  and  as  the  through  railway-trains 
were  then  novelties  of  a  few  days'  and  weeks'  experience 

16 


308     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

in  that  section  of  Middle  Java,  the  station  platforms 
were  crowded  with  native  sight-seers.  Native  officials 
and  their  trains  of  attendants,  Mohammedan  women 
with  gorgeous  head-gear  and  the  thinnest  pretenses  of 
veils,  stolid  planters  with  obsequious,  groveling  ser- 
vants, and  planters'  wives,  barefooted,  wrapped  in 
scant  sarongs,  and  as  often  wearing  red  velvet  jackets 
and  other  traveling  toilets  of  eccentric  combination, 
the  costume  of  the  tropics  and  a  Northern  winter  at 
the  same  time— processions  of  these  entertained  us 
not  a  little  as  they  went  their  way  to  the  other  com- 
partments of  the  long  train. 

After  the  scorching  hours  spent  running  through 
swamp  and  jungle,  we  drew  near  the  mountains ;  life 
became  more  bearable,  and  we  beckoned  our  Moslem 
at  the  next  stopping-place. 

"  Bring  the  sandwiches ;  they  are  not  in  this  basket." 
He  looked  blankness,  as  if  a  little  vaguer  and  more 
becalmed  in  mind  than  usual.  "  The  sandwiches  that 
you  made  at  the  Tjilatjap  hotel  this  morning,"  I  ex- 
plained slowly.  "  Where  are  they  f " 

"Oh,  I  eat  them— jus'  now,"  said  the  soft- voiced 
one,  naively,  his  hand  unconsciously  traveling  to  the 
digestive  region  and  comfortably  stroking  it. 

Language  was  useless  at  such  a  crisis,  and  sadly, 
silently,  I  resigned  myself  to  the  rest  of  the  ten 
hours'  empty  ride.  An  hour  later  we  reached  Tjiawi, 
near  which  the  finest  pineapples  of  the  island  are 
grown ;  and  we  bought  them  on  the  platform,  great 
fragrant,  luscious  globes  of  delight,  regardless  of  the 
almost  prayerful  requests  made  to  us  on  arrival,  that 
we  would  not  touch  a  pineapple  in  Java.  We  did  a 


"TJILATJAP,"  "CHALACHAP,"  "CHELACHAP"     309 

tourist's  whole  duty  to  specialties  of  strange  places 
for  that  one  day,  buying  the  monster  nanas  in  most 
generous  provision ;  and  we  made  up  for  all  previous 
denials  and  lost  pineapple  opportunities  as  we  tore  off 
the  ripe  diamonds  of  pulp  in  streaming  sections  that 
melted  on  the  tongue ;  nor  did  we  feel  any  sinking  at 
heart  nor  dread  of  the  future  for  such  indulgence. 
Then,  at  Tissak  Malaya,  we  bought  strings  of  mango- 
steens  through  the  car- windows.  But  after  the  light, 
evanescent,  six-o'clock  breakfast  of  the  country,  these 
noonday  feasts  of  juicy  fruits  did  not  satisfy  one  for 
long,  and  soon  we  hungered  again. 

At  Tjipeundeui,  in  the  shadow  of  the  great  volcanic 
range  that  walls  the  west,  a  local  chief,  or  village 
head  man,  was  foremost  on  the  station  platform,  that 
was  crowded  with  cheerful,  chattering  groups  of  na- 
tives, hung  over  with  bundles  as  if  come  from  a  fair. 
With  great  excitement  the  chief  announced  that  the 
Goenoeng  Galoengoeng,  or  "  Great  Gong  Mountain," 
was  in  eruption  again.  Two  weeks  before  it  had  rum- 
bled, as  its  name  indicates  it  has  a  habit  of  doing,  and 
sent  out  a  shower  of  stones  that  ruined  a  large  coffee- 
plantation,  scorching  and  half  burying  the  budding 
trees  in  the  hot  rocks,  pebbles,  and  sand.  It  had  be- 
gun rumbling  and  shaking  again,  the  village  wells  had 
emptied,  and  the  people  had  fled,  remembering  too  well 
the  eruption  of  1822,  when  one  hundred  and  fifteen 
villages  were  destroyed,  twenty  thousand  people  were 
killed,  and  plantations  ruined  for  twenty  miles  around 
by  the  rain  of  hot  stones  and  ashes,  and  the  hot  water 
and  mud  overflowing  from  the  blown-out  crater.  But 
such  a  gentle,  happy,  cheerful,  chattering  lot  of 


310     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

refugees  as  they  were,  saving  their  best  sarongs  and 
finery  by  wearing  them,  and  tying  the  rest  of  their 
treasures  in  shapeless  bundles,  as  they  went  picnick- 
ing forth  to  visit  relatives  until  the  volcanic  disturb- 
ance might  subside!  They  were  not  a  whit  more 
care-worn  or  anxious  than  the  crowd  on  the  next 
station  platform,  where  two  or  three  hundred  plea- 
sure-seekers were  returning  from  a  famous  country 
passer,  whose  rare  meetings  attract  people  from  afar. 
Even  the  chief  of  the  volcanic  village  radiated  joy  and 
pride  all  over  his  wrinkled  old  brown  face  as  he  re- 
lated the  moving  events  occurring  in  his  bailiwick. 
Eruptions  were  evidently  his  pastime,  a  diversion 
quite  in  his  line,  since  he  had  only  come  down  to  the 
railway  to  see  his  family  off  to  a  place  of  safety,  while 
he  would  return,  play  Casabianca  on  his  burning 
heath,  and  have  it  out  with  the  resounding  Galoen- 
goeng  at  his  leisure. 

We  had  an  hour  to  wait  at  Tjibatoe  station  before 
the  Garoet  train  left,  and  the  refreshment-room  keeper 
offered  tea  and  biscuits— the  inevitable,  omnipresent 
Huntley  &  Palmer  biscuits,  that  are  the  mainstay  and 
salvation,  the  very  prop  and  stay  and  staff,  of  tourist 
life  in  Netherlands  as  well  as  British  India,  and  for 
whose  making  the  great  Reading  bakers  buy  the 
entire  tapioca-crop  of  Java  each  year.  After  a  short 
wait  in  the  room,  redolent  of  gin  and  schnapps  and 
colonial  tobacco,  a  boy  sauntered  in  the  back  door 
with  an  iron  tea-kettle,  and  the  proprietor  was  about 
to  make  the  tea  with  that  warm  water,  when  we 
chorused  a  protest.  He  good-naturedly  allowed  me 
to  gather  up  tea-pot,  tea-kettle,  small  boy,  and  all,  and 


"TJILATJAP,"  "CHALACHAP,"  "CHELACHAP"    311 

go  a  hundred  yards  down  the  road,  climb  a  bamboo 
ladder  laid  against  a  bank,  and  restore  the  cooling 
kettle  to  its  place  on  the  home  fire  in  the  airiest, 
dearest  little  fancy  basket  of  a  home,  in  which  one 
could  imagine  grown  people  playing  "keep  house." 
A  bright-eyed  little  woman  stirred  the  fire,  gave  me  a 
box  to  sit  upon,  and  herself  crouched  before  the  sullen 
tea-kettle,  chattering  and  crooning  like  a  child  at  play. 
"  Bodedit  ?  Bodedit  f  "  ("  Does  it  boil  f  Does  it  boil  ? ») 
she  asked  seriously,  putting  her  ear  to  the  spout,  or 
sliding  the  lid  and  peering  into  the  still  interior;  but 
it  finally  did  boil  energetically.  We  made  the  tea; 
and,  at  risk  of  every  bone,  I  descended  that  slanting 
half-ladder  in  a  gentle  rain,  and  returned  to  enjoy 
quite  a  feast  that  the  kind  refreshment-room  keeper 
had  conjured  up  in  the  meantime. 


XXIII 

GARGET   AND   PAPANDAYANG 

'AIN  blurred  the  landscape  for  all  of  the 
half-hour  run  from  Tjibatoe  down  to 
Garoet,  and  we  lost  the  panorama  of 
splendid  mountains  that  surround  the 
great  green  Garoet  plain,  embowered  in 
the  midst  of  which  is  the  town  of  Garoet,  a  favorite 
hill  and  pleasure-resort  of  the  island.  We  did  catch 
glimpses  now  and  then,  however,  of  dark  mountain 
masses  looming  above  and  through  the  clouds,  and  of 
flooded  rice-fields  and  ripening  crops,  with  scarecrows 
and  quaint  little  baskets  of  outlooks  perched  high  on 
stilts,  where  young  Davids  with  slings  lay  in  wait 
for  birds.  Boys  leading  flocks  of  geese,  and  boys 
astride  of  buffaloes  made  other  pictures  afield,  and 
in  the  drizzling  rain  of  the  late  afternoon  we  were 
whirled  through  the  dripping  avenues  to  the  Hotel 
Hork,  home  of  Siamese  royalties  and  lesser  tourists, 
health-  and  pleasure-seekers,  who  visit  this  volcanic 
and  scenic  center  of  the  Preanger  regencies. 

Our  sitting-room  porch  at  this  summer  hotel,  with 
an  endless  season,  looked  on  a  garden,  whose  formal 

312 


GARGET  AND  PAPANDAYANG  313 

flower-beds,  bordered  with  stones  and  shells,  classic 
vases,  and  other  conventions  of  their  kind,  reminded 
one  at  once  of  by-places  in  Europe;  and  so  also  did 
the  bust  of  Mozart  and  the  copy  of  Thorwaldsen's 
"  Venus,"— until  one  noted  their  protecting  palm-  and 
mango-trees.  This  Garoet  hotel  is  one  of  the  institu- 
tions of  Java,  and  the  Vrouw  van  Hork  and  her  excel- 
lent Dutch  housekeeping  are  famed  from  Anjer  Head 
to  Banjoewangi.  All  the  colonial  types  were  repre- 
sented at  the  long  table  d'hote,  and  every  language  of 
Europe  was  heard.  There  were  always  nice  neighbors 
at  table,  able  and  anxious  to  talk  English,  and  the 
cheery  Dutch  ladies  were  kindness  and  friendliness 
personified.  At  no  other  resort  on  the  island  did  we 
receive  such  a  pleasant  impression  of  the  simplicity, 
refinement,  and  charm  of  social  life  in  the  colony. 
But,  although  two  thousand  feet  above  sea-level,  in 
a  climate  of  mildly  tempered  eternal  spring,  the  ladies 
all  wore  the  sarong  and  loose  dressing-sacque  in  the 
morning,  as  in  scorching  Batavia  or  lowland  Solo. 
Even  on  damp  and  chilly  mornings,  when  a  light  wrap 
was  a  comfortable  addition  to  our  conventional  muslin 
gowns,  the  Garoet  ladies  were  bare-ankled  and  as 
scantily  clad  as  the  Batavians ;  and  there  were  shock 
and  real  embarrassment  to  me  in  seeing  in  sarong  and 
sacque  the  dignified  elderly  matron  who  had  been  my 
charming  dinner  neighbor  the  night  before. 

There  is  an  interesting  passer  at  Garoet,  and  besides 
the  lavish  display  of  nature's  products,  there  are  cu- 
rious baskets  brought  from  a  farther  valley,  which 
visitors  compete  for  eagerly.  The  town  square,  or 
overgrown  village  green,  is  faced  by  the  homes  of  the 


314    JAVA:  THE  GAKDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

native  regent  and  the  Dutch  resident,  and  by  the  quaint 
little  messigit,  or  Mohammedan  mosque.  The  last 
mufti,  or  head  priest  of  the  prophet,  at  Garoet  was  a 
man  of  such  intelligence  and  liberality  that  he  had 
but  one  wife,  and  allowed  her  to  go  with  face  uncov- 
ered, to  learn  Dutch,  and  to  meet  and  freely  converse 
with  all  his  foreign  visitors,  men  as  well  as  women. 
Travelers  brought  letters  to  this  mufti  and  quoted  him 
in  their  books,  but  since  his  death  the  more  regular, 
illiberal  order  has  ruled  at  Mohammedan  headquarters. 
The  great  excursion  from  Garoet  is  to  the  crater  of 
Papandayang,  a  mountain  whose  extended  lines  (fif- 
teen miles  in  length  by  six  in  breadth)  match  its 
syllables ;  which  has  been  in  vigorous  eruption  within 
a  century ;  and  which  still  steams  and  rumbles,  and, 
like  the  Goenoeng  Goentor,  or  "  Thunder  Mountain," 
across  the  plain,  may  burst  forth  again  at  any  mo- 
ment. At  the  last  eruption  of  Papandayang,  in  1772, 
there  was  a  great  convulsion,  a  solid  mass  of  the 
mountain  was  blown  out  into  the  air,  streams  of  lava 
poured  forth,  and  ashes  and  cinders  covered  the  earth 
for  seven  miles  around  with  a  layer  five  feet  thick,  de- 
stroying forty  villages  and  engulfing  three  thousand 
people  in  one  day.  The  scar  of  the  great  crater,  or 
"  blow-out  hole,"  near  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  is 
still  visible  from  the  plain,  and  the  plumes  and  clouds 
of  steam  ascending  from  it  remind  one  of  its  un- 
pleasant possibilities.  We  made  a  start  early  one 
rainy  morning,  and  drove  twelve  miles  across  the 
plain,  along  hard,  sandy  white  roads,  continuously 
bordered  with  shade-trees.  The  frequent  villages  were 
damp  and  cheerless,  and  the  little  basket  houses,  that 


GABOET  AND  PAPANDAYANG  317 

the  people  weave  as  they  would  a  hat,  were  anything 
but  enviable  dwellings  then.     The  sling-shooters'  sen- 
try-boxes throughout  the  fields— perches  where  men  or 
boys  sat  to  pull  sets  of  strings  that  reached  to  scare- 
crows far  away— suggested  too  much  of  clammy, 
rheumatic  discomfort  to  seem  as  picturesque  as  usual 
—strange  little  Malay  companion  pieces  to  the  same 
boxes  on  stilts  that  one  sees  perched  in  the  rice-fields 
of  Hizen  and  the  other  southern  provinces  of  Japan. 
At  Tjisoeroepan,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  we 
changed  to  clumsy  djoelies,  or  sedan-chairs,  each  borne 
by  four  coolies,  whose  go-as-you-please  gait,  not  one 
of  them  keeping  step  with  any  other,  was  especially 
trying  so  soon  after  coming  from  the  enjoyment  of 
the  swift,  regular,  methodical  slap-slap  tread  of  the 
chair-bearers  of  South  China.     Despite  their  churning 
motion,  the  way  was  enjoyable ;  and,  beginning  with 
a  blighted  and  abandoned  coffee-plantation  at  the  base 
of  the  mountain,  we  passed  through  changing  belts  of 
vegetation,  as  by  successive  altitudes  we  passed  botan- 
ically  from  the  tropic  to  the  temperate  zone.     The 
bleached  skeletons  'of  the  old  coffee-trees,  half-smo- 
thered in  undergrowth  and  vines,  interested  one  more 
than  the  beautifully  ordered  and  carefully  tended  young 
coffee-trees  in  newer  plantations— sad  reminders  of 
those  good  old  days  before  the  war  (the  Achinese  war), 
the  deficit,  and  the  blight.     Beyond  kina  limits  there 
were  no  more  clearings,  and  then  the  tree-fern  appeared 
—wan  skeletons  of  trees  at  first,  where  much  thin- 
ning out  had  left  them  in  range  of  scorching  sun- 
light ;  but  in  the  shade  of  greater  trees  in  the  thick  of 
the  jungle  they  stood  superb— great,  splendid,  soft, 


318    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

drooping,  swaying,  gigantic  green  fronds,  a  refined,  ef- 
feminate, delicate,  sensitive  sort  of  palm,  the  tropic's 
most  tropical,  exquisite,  wonderful  tree.  The  upper 
regions  of  Papandayang  are  all  clothed  with  real 
jungle,  the  forest  primeval,  with  giant  creepers  writh- 
ing and  looping  serpent-like  about  the  trees,  and  doing 
all  the  extravagant  things  they  are  expected  to  do. 
Eatans,  or  climbing  palms,  enveloped  whole  trees  with 
their  pendant,  gracefully  decorative  leaves ;  orchids 
swung  in  tasseled  sprays,  starred  mossy  trunks  and 
branches,  and  showed  in  all  the  green  wonderland 
overhead  and  around ;  and  in  each  ravine,  where  warm 
streams  sprayed  the  air,  a  whole  hothouse  full  of  bloom- 
ing, green,  and  strange  loveliness  delighted  the  eye. 

We  met  strings  of  coolies  descending  with  baskets 
of  sulphur  on  their  backs,  the  path  was  yellow  with 
the  broken  fragments  of  years'  droppings,  and  infra- 
grant,  murky  sulphur-streams  crossed  and  ran  beside 
the  path,  in  promise  of  the  stifling  caldrons  we  were 
fast  approaching. 

We  had  a  magnificent  view  back  over  the  Garoet 
plain,  with  its  checker-board  of  green  and  glinting 
fields,  marked  with  the  network  of  white  post-roads 
and  dotted  with  the  clumps  of  palms  that  bespoke  the 
hidden  villages,  and  then  we  passed  in  through  a 
natural  gateway  or  cutting  in  the  solid  mountain-side 
made  by  the  last  eruption.  The  broad  passage  or  de- 
file led  to  the  Jcawa,  or  crater,  a  bowl  or  depression 
deep  sunk  in  rocky  walls,  with  pools  of  liquid  sulphur 
bubbling  all  over  the  five-acre  floor  and  sending  off 
clouds  of  nauseous  steam.  These  pools,  vats  of  purest 
molten  gold,  boiled  violently  all  the  time,  scattering 


GAEOET  AND  PAPANDAYANG  319 

golden  drops  far  and  wide  from  their  fretted,  honey- 
combed edges.  There  was  always  suggestion  of  the 
possibility  of  their  suddenly  shooting  into  the  air  like 
geysers,  and  deluging  one  with  the  column  of  molten 
gold ;  or  of  the  soft  filigree  edges  of  the  pools  crum- 
bling and  precipitating  one  untimely  into  the  lakelet 
of  fire  and  brimstone.  Steam  jets  roared  and  hissed 
from  all  parts  of  the  quaking  solfatara,  and  from  the 
rumblings  and  strange  underground  noises  one  could 
understand  the  native  legends  of  chained  giants  groan- 
ing inside  of  the  mountain,  and  their  name  for  Papan- 
dayang,  "The  Forge."  The  sulphur  coolies  stepped 
warily  along  the  paths  between  the  pools ;  our  shoe- 
soles  were  not  proof  against  the  steam  and  scorch  of 
the  heaving  ground  beneath  us ;  and  carbonic-acid  gas 
and  sulphureted  hydrogen  were  all  that  one  could  find 
to  breathe  down  there  on  the  crater's  floor— the  un- 
doubted Guevo  Upas,  or  "  Valley  of  Poison." 

It  is  said  that  one  can  see  the  shores  both  of  the  In- 
dian Ocean  and  the  Java  Sea  from  the  summit  of  Papan- 
dayang,  which  is  seven  thousand  feet  above  their  level. 
Although  the  skies  were  cloudy  and  doubtful  around 
the  horizon  edges,  we  were  willing  to  take  the  brilliant 
noonday  sun  overhead  as  augury,  and  attempt  the 
climb.  As  there  was  no  path  beyond  the  crater's  rest- 
sheds  for  the  coolies  to  carry  us  in  djoelies,  we  started 
on  foot  straight  up  the  first  steep  slope  of  the  crater's 
ragged  wall,  through  tangles  of  bushes  and  the  rank 
bamboo-grass.  We  drove  our  servant  on  ahead,  and 
the  poor  indolent  creature,  cheated  of  his  expected 
lounge  after  his  arduous  pony-ride  up  the  mountain 
and  his  midday  rice-feast,  turned  plaintive  counte- 


320     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

nance  backward,  as  he  picked  his  reluctant  way  bare- 
footed through  this  prickly  underbrush. 

"  What  for  go  here  ?  "  he  bleated. 

"  To  get  to  the  top  of  the  mountain  and  see  the  two 
oceans." 

"  Dis  mountain  no  got  top,"  wailed  the  unconscion- 
able one ;  but  we  remembered  the  waist-deep  water  he 
had  conjured  up  to  discourage  us  from  Chandi  Sewou ; 
nor  had  we  forgotten  the  Tjilatjap  sandwiches  with 
which  he  had  comforted  himself  such  a  few  days  be- 
fore, and  we  said,  "  Go  on !  " 

Then,  remembering  our  perpetual  hunt  for  and  ex- 
pectation of  great  snakes,  he  turned  mournful  coun- 
tenance and  wailed :  "  Slanga  !  slanga  !  ["  Snakes ! 
snakes !  "]  always  live  dis  kind  grass." 

"  Very  well.  That 's  just  what  we  want  to  find.  Be 
sure  you  tell  us  as  soon  as  you  step  on  one  or  see  it 
moving." 

But,  after  pushing  and  tearing  our  way  through 
bamboo-grass  and  bushes  to  the  first  ridge,  we  saw 
only  other  and  farther  ridges  to  be  surmounted,  with 
great  ravines  and  stony  hollows  between.  We  took 
such  view  of  the  cloudy  plains  and  ranges  to  north- 
ward and  southward  as  we  could,  seeing  everywhere 
the  murky,  blue,  misty  horizon  of  the  rainy  season, 
and  nowhere  the  silver  sea-levels,  nor  the  lines  of  per- 
petual surf  that  fringe  the  Indian  Ocean.  We  saw 
again  the  mosaic  of  rice-fields  and  dry  fields  covering 
the  Graroet  plain ;  and  looking  down  upon  the  foot  of 
an  opposite  mountain  spur,  we  could  study,  like  a 
relief -map  or  model  tilted  before  us,  a  vast  plantation 
cultivated  from  tea  to  highest  coffee  and  kina  level. 


GARGET  AND  PAPANDAYANG  321 

Nowhere  in  the  slopes  below  could  we  see  the 
vale  of  the  deadly  upas-tree,  that  was  last  supposed 
to  occupy  a  retired  spot  on  Papandayang's  remote 
heights.  The  imaginative  Dr.  Foersch,  surgeon  of 
the  Dutch  East  India  Company  at  Samarang  in  1773, 
made  the  blood  of  all  readers  of  the  last  century  run 
cold  with  his  description  of  himself  standing  alone, 
"  in  solitary  horror,"  on  a  blasted  plain  covered  with 
skeletons,  with  another  solitary  horror  of  a  deadly 
upas  the  only  larger  object  in  sight.  The  Guevo 
Upas,  or  "  Valley  of  Poison,"  was  first  said  to  be  on 
the  plain  southeast  of  Samarang,  but  that  region  was 
explored  in  vain;  then  it  was  put  upon  the  Dieng 
plateau,  and  found  not  there ;  and  last  the  valley  was 
said  to  be  on  the  side  of  a  high  mountain  far  away  in  the 
almost  unexplored  Preanger  regencies.  Dr.  Horsfield, 
in  his  search  for  volcanic  data,  routed  the  upas  myth 
from  the  Papandayang  region  and  exploded  it  for  all 
time,  and  the  Guevo  Upas  has  gone  to  that  limbo  where 
the  maelstrom  and  other  perils  of  ante-tourist  times 
are  laid  away.  There  is  a  deadly  tree  in  Java,  the 
antiar  (Antiaris  toxicaria),  whose  sap  is  as  poisonous 
as  serpent  venom  if  it  enters  a  wound,  and  will  pro- 
duce deep,  incurable  ulcers  if  dropped  on  the  skin ;  and 
skeletons  of  animals  may  have  been  found  beneath 
and  near  it.  Erasmus  Darwin  immortalized  the  deadly 
upas,  or  antiar,  in  his  poem,  "  The  Botanic  Garden," 
and  this  antiar  is  the  only  actual  and  accepted  upas- 
tree  of  the  tropics.  It  is  quite  possible  that  some 
valley  or  old  crater  on  the  mountain-side,  where  the 
carbonic-acid  and  sulphurous  gases  from  the  inner 
caldron  could  escape,  would  be  strewn  with  skeletons 


322     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

of  birds  and  animals,  a  valley  of  death  to  man  and 
beast,  and  as  deadly  a  place,  for  the  same  reasons,  as 
the  celebrated  grotto  at  Naples ;  but  no  tree  could  live 
in  those  fumes  either;  and  the  solitary  tree  on  the 
11  blasted  plain  "  of  skeletons,  and  the  Dutch  doctor  in 
his  "  solitary  horror,"  have  to  be  abandoned  entire— a 
last  disillusionment  in  Java. 

When  we  returned  from  above,  our  djoelie  coolies 
were  squatted  under  the  tiled  shed  of  refuge  built 
for  visitors  and  sulphur-miners,  and  were  as  curious 
a  lot  of  mixed  types  and  races  as  one  could  find  in 
an  ethnological  museum.  While  the  Malays  have, 
as  a  rule,  but  scanty  beards  and  no  hair  on  breast  or 
limbs,  two  of  these  men  were  as  whiskered  and  hairy 
as  the  wild  men  of  Borneo,  or  the  hirsute  ones  of  Cey- 
lon, the  faces  narrowed  to  the  countenance  of  apes  by 
the  thick  growth  of  hair,  and  their  breasts  shaggy  as 
a  spaniel's  back.  These  wild  men  came  from  some 
farther  district,  but  our  medium  could  not  or  would 
not  comprehend  our  queries  and  establish  the  exact 
spot  of  their  birthplace  by  cross-questioning  the  man- 
apes  themselves ;  and  the  missing  links  sat  comfort- 
ably the  while,  submitting  their  disheveled  heads  to 
one  and  another's  friendly  search  and  attentions. 

We  were  reluctant  to  descend  Papandayang  at  the 
rapid  gait  the  coolies  struck  for  going  down  hill,  but 
they  whisked  us  through  the  different  belts  of  vege- 
tation and  down  to  the  serried  rows  of  coffee-trees  in 
seemingly  no  time  at  all.  The  head  man  of  Tjisoeroe- 
pan  had  posted  the  village  gamelan,  or  orchestra,  in 
the  little  rustic  band-stand  of  the  green,  and  their 
tinkling,  mild,  and  plaintive  melodies  reached  us 


GARGET  AND  PAPANDAYANG  323 

through  the  trees  long  before  we  were  in  sight  of 
them.  The  musicians  played  a  long  program  while 
the  djoelies  were  put  away,  carts  and  horses  brought 
round,  and  the  very  moderate  bill  itemized  and  paid— 
too  modest  a  bill  altogether  to  need  an  accompaniment 
of  slow  music. 

We  reached  Garoet  as  the  delayed  afternoon  shower 
began  falling ;  but  the  lovely  moonlight  evening  under 
the  shade-trees  of  Garoet  streets  was  to  be  remem- 
bered, as  were  the  later  hours  on  the  porch,  with  the 
iron  bust  of  Mozart  looking  at  us  from  his  tropical 
garden  bower.  In  the  middle  of  the  night  we  heard 
commotion  on  our  porch,  as  of  bamboo-chairs  thrown 
over  and  dragged  about.  "The  snake!— at  last!" 
was  the  first  thought  and  cry;  and  as  the  thrashing 
continued,  it  was  evident  that  a  whole  den  of  pythons 
must  be  contorting  outside.  "  A  tiger ! "  and  we  peered 
through  a  crack  of  the  latticed  door  and  saw  our  Tissak 
Malaya  basket  scattered  in  sections  over  the  garden 
path,  and  monkeys  capering  off  with  our  store  of  Boro 
Boedor  cocoanut-palm  sugar.  And  this  petty  larceny 
of  the  garden  monkeys  was  our  only  adventure  with 
wild  beasts  in  the  tropics ! 


xxrv 

"  SALAMAT !  n 

|HE  return  from  the  hill-country  to  Bui- 
tenzorg  and  Batavia  was  all  too  hurried, 
and  the  soft  Malay  " Salamat"  ("Fare- 
well")  found  much  regretfully  left  un- 
done. We  lingered  at  the  Sans  Souci 
by  Salak  until  the  last  hour  of  grace  for  the  neces- 
sary steamer  preparations  at  Batavia,  as  we  dreaded 
the  reeking  sea-coast  with  its  scorching  noondays  and 
stifling  nights. 

The  shady  avenues,  the  wonder-garden,  the  pic- 
turesque passer,  and  the  veranda  view  of  the  great 
blue  mountain  rising  from  the  valley  of  palms  below 
were  more  enchanting  than  at  first.  I  had  come  to 
appreciate  and  accept  the  tropics  then,  to  be  aware  of 
many  fine  distinctions  unnoted  in  the  first  enjoyment 
of  their  beauty.  I  fancied  that  I  could  detect  greater 
coolness  in  the  shade  of  the  tamarind  than  in  that  of 
any  other  tree ;  the  milk  of  a  fresh  cocoanut  had  be- 
come the  most  refreshing  and  delicious  drink ;  and  the 
palm  had  established  itself  in  my  affections  and  all 
associations  with  the  outer  world.  There  had  come  to 

324 


"  SALAMAT ! "  325 

be  a  sense  of  attachment,  almost  comradeship,  in  the 
constant  companion  tree,  the  graceful,  restless  creature 
that  the  natives  say  will  not  live  beyond  the  sound 
of  the  human  voice— dying  if  the  village  or  habita- 
tion it  guards  is  deserted.  So  nearly  human  and  ap- 
pealing are  these  waving  cocoas  that  it  is  fitting  that 
there  should  be  a  census  of  palms  quite  as  much  as  of 
people,  and  that  in  the  last  enumeration  it  appeared 
that  the  people  and  the  palms  existed  in  even  numbers 
— one  palm  apiece  for  every  one  of  the  millions  of  in- 
habitants of  the  island. 

The  drives  and  the  scenery  about  Buitenzorg,  the 
sunset  and  twilight  band-concerts  under  the  great  aisles 
of  kanari-trees,  had  fresh  interest,  and  it  was  indeed  a 
penance  to  leave  without  taking  train  around  to  the 
Preanger  side  of  Mount  Gedeh,  and  driving  up  to  the 
sanatorium  of  Sindanglaya,  over  three  thousand  feet 
above  sea-level.  The  cool  mountain  air  at  that  eleva- 
tion is  cure  and  tonic  for  all  tropic  ills,  and  with  the 
mercury  always  20°  lower  than  at  sea-level,  Sindang- 
laya is  the  one  sure  refuge  for  all  Malaysia  and  Cochin 
China,  French  officers  from  Saigon  reaching  it  more 
quickly  than  Japan  or  the  highlands  of  Ceylon.  From 
Sindanglaya  one  may  go  to  the  Gedeh's  crater,  and  to 
the  summit  of  its  twin  peak,  Pangerango,  the  highest 
mountain  of  the  island,  where,  surrounded  by  prim- 
roses and  violets,— the  flora  of  the  European  temper- 
ate zone,  islanded  there  after  the  period  of  great  cold 
had  retreated  northward,— one  may  look  down  upon 
all  the  Batavia  Residency,  and  out  upon  the  Java  Sea, 
and  southward  across  Preanger  hills  to  the  greater 
Indian  Ocean. 

17 


326    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

There  was  always  some  new  or  strange  thing  to 
pique  one's  interest  and  implore  delay,  and  the  promise 
of  the  great  talipot-palm  of  the  gardens  bursting  into 
its  magnificent  flower,  or  the  great  creeper,  the  Eaf- 
flesia,  producing  one  of  its  gigantic  six-foot  flowers,— 
the  biggest  blossom  known  to  the  world,— was  an  in- 
ducement not  put  away  without  a  pang.  There  were 
bird's-nest  caves  near  by  on  a  mountain-side,  and  over 
in  the  highlands  toward  Bantam  a  strange  colony  of 
"Badouins,"  more  than  a  thousand  refugees  from 
religious  persecution,  who  continue  there  unhindered 
the  practice  of  a  religion  part  pagan  and  part  Bud- 
dhist, which  commands  the  most  severely  upright 
lives.  The  anthropologist  and  economist  have  passed 
these  people  by,  and  one  can  find  little  concerning 
them  in  English  print.  Every  day  held  its  won- 
der and  surprise,  and  rumor  of  more  and  of  greater 
ones. 

Although  we  were  living  and  walking  on  the  line  of 
one  of  the  great  fissures  of  the  earth's  crust  all  that 
time,  and  eleven  of  the  forty-five  volcanoes  of  the 
island  are  gently  active,  we  did  not  once  feel  the  tremor 
of  an  earthquake.  Table  d'hdte  talk  often  turned  upon 
the  volcanic  phenomena  one  and  another  guest  had 
experienced,  and  the  eruption  of  Krakatau— by  no 
means  an  old  story  to  these  colonials— was  a  topic  for 
which  I  had  an  insatiable  appetite.  They  told  one 
thrilling  stories  of  that  summer  of  Krakatau's  pro- 
longed activity;  of  Batavian  folk  running  frequent 
excursion-steamers  to  the  Strait  of  Sunda  to  witness 
the  spectacle  of  a  volcano  in  eruption ;  and  of  that 
August  Sunday  of  horror  when  the  very  end  of  the 


"SALAMATI"  327 

world  seemed  to  have  come  to  all  that  part  of  Java. 
A  dense  pall  of  smoke  covered  all  of  Buitenzorg's  sky 
that  day ;  Salak  was  lost  in  the  darkness,  and  it  was 
thought  that  it  or  Gedeh  was  in  eruption  when  crashes 
and  roars  beyond  those  of  the  most  terrific  thunder- 
storms, the  bang  and  boom  of  the  heaviest  artillery's 
bombardment,  and  the  sound  of  frightful  explosions 
filled  the  air,  shook  and  rocked  the  ground,  and  rattled 
houses  until  conversation  was  impossible.  Compass- 
needles  spun  around  and  around,  barometers  rose  and 
fell,  clouds  of  sulphurous  vapors  half  strangled  the 
people  in  the  gloom  of  that  awful  Sabbath  night,  and 
no  one  slept  with  this  dread  cannonading  and  the  end 
of  the  world  seemingly  close  at  hand.  The  next  day- 
light brought  the  climax,  a  series  of  prolonged  and 
awful  roars,  and  then  the  very  crack  and  crash  of 
doom,  when  half  of  Krakatau's  island  was  torn  away 
with  the  final  explosion.  None  who  endured  those 
days  of  terror  can  tell  of  them  without  excitement ;  and 
those  whose  plantations  were  near  the  Sunda  Strait 
had  yet  more  gruesome  times  during  the  days  of  dark- 
ness and  of  greenish,  horrid  twilight,  when  the  heavens 
seemed  to  be  falling  about  them  in  the  rain  of  ashes 
and  hot  stones.  Batavian  folk  had  as  terrifying  ex- 
periences, and  each  entering  ship  brought  more  awful 
tales  of  being  caught  by  the  waves  or  the  eddies  of 
that  sickening  sea,  with  hot  stones  setting  decks  and 
rigging  afire,  and  the  weight  of  hot  ashes  threatening 
to  sink  the  vessels  in  the  sea  of  pumice  before  they 
could  be  shoveled  away.  Pumice  covered  the  ocean 
for  miles  away  from  Krakatau;  and  it  drifted  into 
Batavia  harbor  in  a  surface-layer  so  deep  that  planks 


328    JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

were  laid  on  it  and  men  walked  even  a  mile  to  shore, 
they  say. 

A  Dutch  scientific  commission  investigated  and  col- 
lected reports  upon  the  phenomenal  events,  and  its 
report,  "  Krakatau,"  edited  by  R.  D.  M.  Verbeek,  the 
eminent  geologist  and  director  of  mines  to  the  Dutch 
government,  was  published  at  Batavia  in  1885,  in  a 
quarto  volume  of  500  pages,  in  Dutch  and  French 
editions,  accompanied  by  charts  and  an  atlas  of  col- 
ored plates  that  make  clear  the  whole  course  of  the 
spectacular  phenomena. 

The  Royal  Society  of  Great  Britain  appointed  a 
"Krakatoa  Committee,"  composed  of  thirteen  of  its 
most  eminent  geologists,  meteorologists,  seismists,  and 
specialists  in  such  lines,  to  collect  data  concerning  this 
most  remarkable  eruption  of  the  century,  and  its  re- 
port, a  quarto  volume  of  475  pages,  edited  by  G.  J. 
Symons,  and  published  in  London  in  1888,  embodies 
the  result  of  their  inquiries. 

M.  Rene  Breon's  report  to  the  French  Minister  of 
Public  Instruction  was  published  by  his  government, 
and  he  contributed  papers  to  "La  Nature,"  in  the 
April  and  May  numbers  for  the  year  1885.  Mr.  H.  O. 
Forbes,  the  naturalist,  was  in  Batavia  in  the  first  weeks 
of  Krakatau's  activity,  and  the  record  of  his  excursion 
to  the  island  and  his  observations  was  read  to  the 
Royal  Geographic  Society,  and  afterward  published 
in  vol.  vi.  of  "Proceedings"  (1884,  pp.  129,  142). 

The  many  official  reports  and  accounts  of  the  Kra- 
katau eruption  are  best  epitomized  in  Findlay's  "  Sail- 
ing Directory  for  the  Indian  Archipelago  and  China  " 
(p.  78): 


"SALAMAT!"  329 

In  an  old  Dutch  work  there  is  an  account  of  a  violent  eruption 
on  Krakatau  in  1680,  since  which  time  it  appears  to  have  been 
quiescent  until  May  21,  188<5,  when  smoke  was  observed  rising 
from  it,  and  it  quickly  became  very  active.  On  the  23d  a  ves- 
sel encountered  a  large  accumulation  of  pumice  off  Flat  Cape, 
Sumatra ;  and  on  the  24th  volcanic  cinders  fell  on  the  island  of 
Timor,  twelve  hundred  miles  distant. 

For  the  next  eight  or  nine  weeks  the  eruption  continued  with 
great  vigor,  increasing  in  activity  on  August  21st,  preparatory 
to  its  final  great  effort.  On  the  evening  of  the  26th  some  violent 
explosions  took  place,  audible  at  Batavia,  eighty  miles  distant ; 
and  between  5  and  7  A.  M.  on  the  27th  there  was  a  still  more 
gigantic  explosion,  followed  about  10  A.  M.  by  ajietonation_§o 
terrific  as  to  be  heard  even  in_  India ,  Ceylon,.  Manilla^  and  the 
west  coast  of  Australia,  over  two  thousand  miles  away.  Fol- 
lowing on  these  came  a  succession  of  enormous  waves,  which 
completely  swept  the  shores  of  the  strait,  utterly  destroying 
An j el-,  Telok  Betong,  and  numerous  villages,  the  loss  of  life 
being  officially  estimated  at  over  thirty-six  thousand  souls. 
The  coasts  and  islands  in  the  vicinity  were  buried  under  a  layer 
of  mud  and  ashes. 

The  effects  of  this  eruption  were  felt  all  over  the  world.  Ashes 
fell  at  Singapore,  519  miles  distant,  Bengkalis,  568  miles  dis- 
tant, and  the  Cocos  Islands,  764  miles  to  the  southwestward ; 
and  undulations  of  the  sea  were  recorded  at  Ceylon,  Aden, 
Mauritius,  South  Africa,  Australia,  and  in  the  Pacific.  A  wave 
of  atmospherical  disturbance  was  also  generated,  which  has 
been  traced  three  times  completely  round  the  world,  traveling 
at  the  speed  of  sound.  Many  months  afterward  pumice  was 
cast  ashore  on  Zanzibar  Island  and  Madagascar,  supposed  to 
have  drifted  from  the  Strait  of  Sunda. 

The  height  of  the  column  of  steam  and  smoke  given  off  by 
the  volcano  is  estimated  at  from  nine  to  twelve  miles,1  the  con- 
sequence being  that  large  quantities  of  fine  dust  were  discharged 
into  the  upper  regions  of  the  atmosphere,  giving  rise  to  those 

1  The  Royal  Society  gives  an  estimate  of  seventeen  miles 
ae  the  height  of  this  great  column  of  smoke. 


330     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

beautiful  sunset  effects  observed  all  over  the  world  for  several 
months  afterward.  The  amount  of  solid  matter  ejected  has  been 
computed  at  over  four  and  a  quarter  cubic  miles. 

Such  a  convulsion  has  naturally  greatly  altered  the  features 
of  the  surrounding  sea  and  islands.  The  northern  portion  of 
Krakatau  has  completely  disappeared,  and  several  banks  and 
shoals  have  been  formed  between  it  and  Bezee  Island,  render- 
ing the  passage  between  almost  impracticable.  It  has  not  other- 
wise affected  the  navigation  of  Sunda  Strait,  and  its  activity  has 
now  ceased  (1889).  .  .  . 

Krakatau  Island,  lying  in  the  middle  of  Sunda  Strait,  has  been 
reduced  in  size  from  thirteen  to  six  square  miles,  the  site  of  the 
northern  part  of  the  island  now  being  covered  by  deep  water, 
no  bottom  being  obtained  at  164  fathoms  at  one  spot.  The 
island  is  now  three  and  a  half  miles  in  Length,  east  and  west, 
and  two  miles  wide  at  its  east  end.  Mount  Radaka,  its  fine 
conical  peak,  which  still  remains,  rising  boldly  up  to  the  height 
of  2657  feet,  may  be  seen  at  a  considerable  distance,  and  serves 
as  a  fairway  mark  for  ships  entering  the  strait  from  the  west- 
ward. It  is  in  latitude  6C  9'  S.,  longitude  105°  27'  E.,  and  its 
northern  side  is  now  a  sheer  precipice  about  2550  feet 
high.  .  .  .  The  island  was  uninhabited,  but  visited  occasionally 
by  fishermen.  .  .  . 

Verlaten  Island  has  increased  in  size  from  about  one  and  a 
half  to  four  and  a  half  square  miles.  Lang  Island  has  altered 
somewhat  in  shape,  but  not  much  in  size.  The  round  islet  named 
Polish  Hat  has  disappeared,  but  another  islet  now  lies  three 
quarters  of  a  mile  west  a  half-mile  from  its  south  point,  with 
deep  water  between. 

Bezee  or  Tamarind  Island,  lying  ten  and  a  half  miles  north 
by  east  from  Krakatau  peak,  has  altered  a  little  in  shape,  but 
not  in  size,  and  appears  to  be  the  northern  limit  of  the  volcanic 
disturbance.  .  .  .  Bezee  Island  formerly  produced  pepper.  .  .  . 
The  village  was  on  the  east  side  opposite  Little  Tamarind  Island, 
but  the  volcanic  eruption  smothered  the  island  with  mud  and 
ashes. 

Although  we  traveled  on  the  island  through  all  the 
November  weeks,  we  did  not  experience  any  of  the 


"SALAMAT!"  331 

sensational  downpours  promised  for  the  beginning  of 
the  rainy  season,  nor  the  terrific  thunder-storms  war- 
ranted to  rend  the  heavens  at  the  turn  of  the  monsoon, 
nor  any  inconvenience  or  disarrangement  of  plans 
through  the  first  instalments  of  the  annual  precipita- 
tion. The  black  clouds  of  the  Java  Sea  did  not  sud- 
denly envelop  our  ship  in  such  sheets  of  rain  that  the 
vessel  was  forced  to  lay  to,  the  lookout  in  the  bows 
unable  to  see  ten  feet  ahead  of  him,  and  the  double 
sail-cloth  awnings  over  the  decks  serving  no  more  pur- 
pose than  so  much  gauze.  The  rain  did  not  descend 
in  a  flood  or  cloud-burst's  fury  at  precisely  three 
o'clock  every  afternoon,  penetrating  carriage-curtains 
and  -aprons,  filling  the  carriage-boxes  like  tanks,  and 
saturating  every  garment  and  article.  Nor  any  more 
did  we  play  billiards  by  lightning,  without  lamps,  like 
that  British  planter  who  eventually  scared  away  a 
party  of  Americans  by  his  account  of  thunder-storms 
in  Java.  This  British  resident  assured  the  tourists 
that  at  his  Preanger  plantation  the  thunder-claps  shook 
the  house,  rocked  the  furniture,  and  stopped  clocks, 
and  that  he  had  often  turned  out  the  reeling  lamps 
for  safety's  sake,  and  continued  his  games  of  billiards 
by  the  lightning's  incessant,  blinding  green  glare. 
And  the  Americans  believed  it,  and  remained  away 
from  Java— British  humor  and  American  credulity 
matched  to  equally  surprising  extremes. 

There  were  gentle,  intermittent  drizzles  and  light 
showers  on  several  days ;  many  days  when  the  gray 
skies  sulked  and  seemed  about  to  weep ;  but  the  only 
hard  showers  were  at  night.  The  one  vaunted  sensa- 
tional, tropical  downpour,  with  blue-and-green  light- 
ning's illumination,  made  my  last  Batavian  midnight 


332     JAVA:  THE  GAEDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

memorable,  and  put  me  at  last  in  line  with  my  cli- 
matic expectations.  Yet  that  was  at  the  end  of  Novem- 
ber, when  the  monsoon  was  supposed  to  have  sent  off 
its  irregular  fireworks  and  settled  down  to  the  fixed 
program  of  a  three-o'clock  shower  every  afternoon, 
in  order  to  precipitate  its  annual  eighty  inches  of 
rain. 

Even  the  thermometer  disappointed  one  in  this  land 
comprised  between  the  parallels  of  5°  and  8°  south  of 
the  equator.  Not  once  in  my  stay  did  it  register  as 
great  a  heat  as  I  have  once  seen  it  register  in  Sitka  in 
July— 94°  Fahrenheit ;  but  as  the  column  of  mercury  is 
often  small  gage  or  warrant  for  one's  own  sensations, 
he  must  believe,  even  if  with  mental  reservations,  that 
Batavia's  mean  temperature  was  but  78.69°  for  twelve 
years,  with  a  monthly  mean  range  of  but  two  degrees. 
If  one  has  been  out  in  the  sun  at  that  hour,  he  feels 
skeptical  about  Batavia's  annual  average  noonday  tem- 
perature being  but  83°,  all  of  four  degrees  cooler  than 
Samarang's  and  Sourabaya's  average  noon  temper- 
ature. He  may  believe  that  the  thermometer  very 
seldom  falls  below  70°  or  rises  above  90°,  but  a  qual- 
ity in  the  air,  a  weight  and  appreciable  humidity,  make 
Batavia's  mean,  exhausting,  lifeless  83°  noondays  the 
climax  of  one's  discomfort. 

With  the  upas-tree,  the  great  snakes,  the  tigers,  the 
pirates,  and  the  good  coffee  exposed  as  myths;  the 
white  ants  never  eating  out  the  contents  of  a  trunk 
overnight ;  mildew  ignoring  the  luggage  left  for  over 
a  fortnight  at  Buitenzorg;  and  the  trunks  left  at 
Singapore  for  more  than  a  month  equally  innocent  of 
fungus-mold,  I  felt  that  the  tropics  had  defrauded  me 


"SALAMAT!"  333 

a  bit— or  else  that  I  had  lent  too  willing  an  ear  to 
returned  travelers'  imaginations.  Taking  my  own  ex- 
perience as  proof,  there  might  be  written  a  brief  chap- 
ter about  snakes  to  match  that  famous  one  in  Horre- 
bow's  "  History  of  Iceland."  But  the  disillusionment 
of  disillusionments  awaited  us  on  the  borders  of  Ban- 
tam, when  the  last  Batavian  day  brought  informa- 
tion that  our  so-called  tiny  bantam  cock  is  not  from 
Bantam  at  all.  It  was  first  seen  on  board  a  Japanese 
junk  trading  at  Bantam  in  the  long  ago,  and  the 
Malays,  who  are  natural  and  long-descended  cock- 
fighters,  saw  in  these  little  fowls  combatants  more 
spirited  than  any  of  their  own  breed,  and  of  more 
manageable  size.  The  true  bantam  cocks  to  the  prov- 
ince born  are  nearly  as  large  as  turkeys ;  long  ago 
Dr.  Marsden  told  of  their  being  as  large  as  Norfolk 
bustards,  and  of  their  standing  high  enough  to  peck 
off  the  dinner-table,  and  said  that  when  they  sat  down 
on  the  first  joint  of  the  leg  they  were  taller  than  any 
common  fowls.  The  introduction  of  the  pretty  Jap- 
anese fowls  revolutionized  cock-fighting,  and  the  Dutch 
imported  them  through  their  Nagasaki  factory,  and  in- 
troduced them  to  Europe. 

The  equator  was  proved  not  such  a  terrible  thing  as 
it  had  been  made  out  to  be— a  thing  that  might  be 
spoken  of  very  disrespectfully  because  of  that  mis- 
placed awe  and  veneration ;  and  the  tropics  not  at  all 
as  astonishing  as  they  used  to  be,  when  illustrated 
books  of  travel,  museum  collections  and  models,  and 
exposition  villages  had  not  made  their  life  and  scenery 
so  familiar ;  when  hothouses  had  not  brought  even  or- 
chids to  common  acquaintance,  and  Northern  markets 


334     JAVA:  THE  GARDEN  OF  THE  EAST 

to  displaying  oranges  and  bananas  as  commonly  and 
regularly  as  apples  or  potatoes. 

With  the  other  India— the  whole  continent  of  the 
real,  the  greater,  or  British  India— before  us,  we  could 
not  delay  on  the  Netherlands  isle ;  and  that  strange, 
haunting,  indefinite  fear,  the  dread  of  some  unknown, 
undefinable  evil,  that  shadows  and  oppresses  one  so 
in  the  tropics,  asserted  itself  more  strongly  as  we  ap- 
proached Batavia.  One  is  not  sure  whether  this  vague 
fear  which  possesses  one  under  the  line  is  due  to  the 
sense  of  extreme  distance,  to  dread  of  the  many  dis- 
eases that  lie  in  wait,  to  fear  of  the  sudden  deaths  of 
so  many  kinds  that  may  snatch  one  in  the  lands  where 
the  sun  swings  nearest,  or  to  the  peril  of  volcanic 
forces  that  may  instantly  overwhelm  one  in  some  dis- 
aster like  that  of  Krakatau.  At  least,  there  was  always 
a  sensation  'of  oppression,  a  dread  of  some  impending 
danger  in  the  midst  of  one's  enjoyment,  and  an  un- 
conscious looking-forward  to  free  breathing  and  the 
sensation  of  safety,  when  once  across  the  line  again, 
back  to  the  grand  route  and  the  world  again,  safe 
under  the  British  flag  at  friendly  Singapore,  at  home 
again  with  the  English  language. 

Yet  Java,  the  peerless  gem  in  "that  magnificent 
empire  of  Insul-Inde  which  winds  about  the  equator 
like  a  garland  of  emeralds,"  is  the  ideal  tropical  island, 
the  greenest,  the  most  beautiful,  and  the  most  exqui- 
sitely cultivated  spot  in  the  East,  the  most  picturesque 
and  satisfactory  bit  of  the  tropics  anywhere  near  the 
world's  great  routes  of  travel.  Now  that  the  dark 
days  of  Dutch  rule  are  ended  and  enlightened  modes 
prevail ;  now  that  the  culture  system  has  developed  the 


"SALAMAT!"  335 

island's  resources  and  made  it  all  one  exquisite,  fruitful 
garden,  and  the  colonists  have  begun  to  take  an  inter- 
est in  uncovering  and  protecting  the  ancient  monu- 
ments, the  interest  and  attractions  of  Java  are  greater 
each  year.  It  is  alike  the  scientist's  greatest  store- 
house and  the  traveler's  unequaled  tropical  pleasure- 
resort  and  playground  in  the  East.  The  antiquities 
have  been  merely  scratched,  explorations  in  that  line 
are  only  well  begun,  leaving  to  archaeologists  and 
anthropologists  a  field  of  incalculable  richness— more 
especially  to  those  bent  upon  arriving  at  some  solu- 
tion of  the  great  puzzle,  some  proof  of  Asiatic  and 
American  contact  in  pre-Columbian  times.  The  puz- 
zling resemblance  of  the  older  Javanese  ruins  to  those 
of  Central  America  has  yet  to  be  explained,  and  the 
alluring  theory  of  migration  from  the  rich  "food- 
ponds  "  of  the  waters  within  the  archipelago  to  other 
and  farther  inclosed  seas  teeming  with  fishes,  until 
the  Malays  had  followed  with  the  great  currents  up 
one  shore  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  and  down  the  other, 
must  be  proved.  Dutch  scientists  naturally  desire 
to  explore  and  exploit  this  treasure-house  of  Java  for 
themselves ;  but  with  a  questioning  world  and  many 
eager  inquirers  bent  on  solving  all  the  mysteries  and 
problems  of  race  origin  and  migrations,  the  prize 
must  be  won  by  the  swiftest. 

If  Baedeker  or  Murray  would  only  go  to  Java  and 
kindly  light  the  tourist's  way ;  if  the  Dutch  govern- 
ment would  relax  the  useless  vexations  of  the  toelat- 
ings-kaart  system,  and  the  colonists  welcome  the  vis- 
itor in  more  kindly  spirit,  Java  would  rank,  as  it 
deserves  to,  as  a  close  second  to  Japan,  an  oasis  in 


336    JAVA:  THE  GAKDEN  OP  THE  EAST 

travel,  an  island  of  beauty  and  delight  to  the  increas- 
ing number  of  round-the-world  travelers,  who  each 
year  are  discouraged  from  visiting  the  country  by  less 
heedful  ones  who  have  ventured  there. 

Whether,  as  pessimists  foretell,  a  Mohammedan  re- 
bellion shall  desolate  the  isle;  whether  it  remains  in 
Dutch  leading-strings,  arrives  at  even  the  limited 
independence  of  a  British  colony,  or  succumbs  to 
Germany's  colonial  ambitions,  as  the  French  so  freely 
prophesy,  Java  is  certain  soon  to  loom  larger  in  the 
world's  view,  and  for  a  time  at  least  to  occupy  the 
stage. 


INDEX 


Achin,  4, 10. 
Antiar.    See  UPAS. 
Arabs,  37,  38,  227,  265. 
Ashantee,  10,  72. 
Asoka,  194. 
Ayudya,  269. 

Badouins,  326. 

Baloeboer-Baloeboer-Limbangan,  154. 

Bananas,  8,  80. 

Bandong,  150. 

Bantam,  42,  333. 

Banteng,  133. 

Batavia,  21,  25-48. 

Batavian  Society,  Museum  of,  34,  35, 

36. 

Baths,  60, 131. 
Battek,  42,  45,  46. 
Betel-nut,  42. 
Bilimbi,  84. 
Birds'  nests,  304. 
Birds,  tropic,  13, 130. 
Block-printing,  261. 
Boro,  Boeder,  167-169,  182-202. 
Botanical  Garden,  66-70. 
Brambanam,  218. 
Breadfruit,  85. 
Breon,  M.  Rend,  328. 
Bromo,  Mount,  265,  299. 
Brunmnd,  Herr,  169,  197. 
Buddhism,  168, 169,  187,  190,  193,  194. 
Buddhist  art,  36,  167,  190,  223,  224. 
Buffalo,  water-,  55: 
Buitenzorg,  49,  62-76,  79,  324. 
Burglary,  271. 

Cacao,  58, 129. 

Carambola,  84. 

Central  America,  186,  232,  238,  263. 

Chandi  Sewou,  228-234. 

Chicago  Exposition,  143, 144, 145. 


Chinese,  22,  37,  38,  39,  40,  80,  261,  262, 

290. 

Christianity,  55,  56. 
Cinchona-culture,  70,  104,  150. 
Climate,  21,  49,  127,  331,  332. 
Coffee,  65,  115, 116. 
Coffee-culture,  95,  103, 104, 142,  317. 
Coinage,  20. 
Courts  of  law,  271. 
Culture  system,  94-125. 

Daendels,  Marshal,  22,  95, 97, 270, 275, 

276. 

Dancing-girls,  188,  288. 
De  Charnay,  M.  Desire,  186,  232,  238, 

263,  264. 
Delsarte,  293. 
Depok,  55. 
Dhyani,  193. 
Dieng  plateau,  237,  238. 
Dishabille,  26,  66. 
Djokjakarta,  170,  213,  269-282. 
Dodok,  132, 166, 163,  246,  262,  297. 
Duku,  83. 
Durian,  85,  86. 

Education,  56,  57. 
Egypt,  263. 

Fergusson's  "  History  of  Indian  and 
Eastern  Architecture,"  169, 189,  220, 
264. 

Ferns,  tree-,  317. 

Findlay's  "Sailing  Directory,"  328-330. 

Forbes,  H.  0.,  328 

Frangipani.  68,  92,  93. 

Fruits,  80-91. 

Gamelan,  143,  287,  290,  297,  322. 
Garoet,  312,  313. 


337 


338 


INDEX 


Gautama  Buddha,  Prince  Siddhartha, 

187. 

Gecko,  59, 212. 
Gedeh,  326. 

Government,  colonial,  31,  32, 119, 120. 
Gulden,  20. 

Heyden,  General  Van  der,  11. 
Hotel  life,  26,  26,  29,  58,  59,  61,  313. 

Indigo-culture,  104. 
Jamboa,  84. 

Kalaidon,  151,  152, 153. 
Kali,  Goddess.    See  LORO  JONGGRAN. 
Kanari-trees,  67,  158,  302,  304. 
Kawi  language,  72,  283,  284,  293. 
Khublai  Khan,  227. 
Kina.    See  CINCHONA. 
Krakatau,  11,  826-330. 
Kris,  35,  154,  242,  257,  258,  259,  272 
289. 

Land  laws,  119. 
Laundering,  60. 
Lawn,  Mount,  263. 
Leemans,  Dr.,  197. 
Leles,  plain  of.  152, 153. 
Literature,  native,  283,  284. 
Lizards,  59,  212,  248,  305. 
Lombok,  278. 
Loro  Jonggran,  220,  223. 

Macartney,  Lord,  21,  289. 
Mahabharata,  283,  284. 
Majapahit,  241,  265,  269. 
Malacca,  Straits  of,  1,  3,  8. 
Malays,  2,  3,  41,  42,  121. 
Mangosteen,  30,  87,  88. 
Marco  Polo,  227. 
Mataram,  269,  278. 
"MaxHavelaar,"  110. 
McKinley  Bill,  77. 
".Menac,"  298,  299. 
Mendoet,  209,  210. 
Merapi,  180,  263. 
Merbaboe,  180,  263. 
Metzger,  Emile,  273. 
Missions,  55. 
Mohammedans,  38. 
Money,  J.  W.  B.,  113,  114. 
Monkeys,  224,  282,  323. 
Monsoon,  18. 
Mortality,  21. 
Music,  143,  287,  290. 

Kanko,  85. 

No  dance,  293. 

Noesa  Kambangan,  303. 

North,  Marianne,  126,  186. 

Opium,  107. 


Pajajaran,  241,  269. 

Pajong,  174,  209,  246, 253,  254,  274,  296. 

Pakoe  Alam,  Prince,  278,  290,  294-300. 

Palaces,  36,  67,  246,  249. 

Palms,  62,  72,  91,  205. 

Pangerango,  325. 

Panji,  258,  290. 

Papandayang,  314,  319. 

Papaya,  86,  87. 

Parakan  Salak,  128, 136. 

Paranaks,  39,  261,  290. 

Passer,  42,  79,  161,  176,  206,  254,  372, 

313. 

Passports.    See  TOKLATINGS-KAABT. 
Pawnshops,  257,  273. 
Perk,  Herr,  228. 
Pineapple,  87,  308. 
Polo,  Marco,  227. 
Pomelo,  87. 
Population,  17,  21,  22, 176. 

Baden  Saleh,  47,  71. 
Baffles,  Lady,  69,  75. 
Raffles,  Sir  Stamford,  1,  3,  96,  97,  168, 

169,  227,  264,  269,  283. 
Railway,  6,  50,  61,  62, 164,  307. 
Ramayan,  283. 
Rambutan,  83. 
Bice-fields,  62,  53,  147,  312. 
Riz  tavel,  30. 
Royal  Society  of  Great  Britain,  328. 

Sadoe,  19. 

Salak  (fruit),  84. 

Salak,  Mount,  18,  62, 127,  128. 

Salt  monopoly,  105. 

Sarong,  26,  45,  46,  66,  257,  260,  281,  289, 

312. 

Siddhartha,  Prince,  187. 
Sinagar,  128-146. 
Sindauglaya,  325. 
Singapore,  1. 
Singa  Sari,  237. 
Slavery,  101. 
Snakes,  165,  166,  320. 
Social  life,  30,  33,  66, 129,  289,  294,  295, 

313. 

Soembung,  180. 
Soerabaya,  2C5. 
Soerakarta.    See  SOLO. 
Solo,  240-264. 
Staunton,  21,  289. 
Steamships,  7. 
Stirrup,  254. 

Sugar-culture,  98,  115,  206. 
Suku,  263,  264. 
Sultan  of  Djokja.  274. 
Sumatra,  9-1L 
Snsunhan,  241-246,  269,  270. 

Tailors,  79, 162, 
Tandjon  Priok,  18, 19. 


INDEX  339 

Tapioca,  310.  Verbeek,  B.  D.  M.,  328. 

Tea-culture,  102,  108,  137, 138, 14L  Volcanoes,  18,  67,  150,  180,  265,  309, 

Tengger,  265.  314,  318. 

Terra,  ingrata,  163, 164.  Vorstenlanden,  240. 

"Thousand  Temples."    See  CHAHDI 

SEWOU.  WaUace,  Alfred  Russel,  12, 23, 114, 126, 

Tissak  Malaya,  156-162.  169. 

Tjilatjap,  301,  302.  "Wandering  Jew,"  47. 

Toekoe  Oemar,  11.  Water  Kastel,  257,  277. 

Toelatings-kaart,  23, 170,  211,  215.  Wayang-wayang,  143,  287,  288. 

Topeng,  278.  Wilsen,  Herr,  198. 
Tosari,  265. 

Ylang-ylang,  92. 

Upas,  319,  321.  Yucatan,  238,  239,  364. 


